The Oculor crept silently behind Grey, its presence masked by the shroud of darkness. From behind its eerie veil, it began preparing to fire a beam from its gleaming eyes.
Far off in the distance, the Celestial of War was the first to notice the creature's approach. His eyes widened in alarm. Without hesitation, he hurled a materialized spear through the air toward the Oculor's position, his body acting purely on instinct.
He clenched his jaw in frustration. The spear wouldn't arrive in time—the Oculor had already locked on. Rage welled up in his chest at the thought of Grey dying. The celestial King would be furious. Grey was his most prized possession.
Grey, sensing danger through pure instinct, turned around—just in time to see the Oculor charging its attack.
Dread sank into his gut. He knew he wouldn't be able to escape in time.
