[Third Person].
Xamira did not fly far before something tugged at her instincts. The air over the capital felt wrong.
From above, she watched the city react to the state of emergency. Guards were shouting instructions. Merchants hurriedly shut their stalls. Citizens rushed indoors. The streets churned with confusion.
Then, a disturbance—not large or loud presented itself.
A cart overturned near a narrow street, crates spilling into the road. Two men began arguing. A woman screamed. A minor chaos erupted, drawing several guards away to restore order.
Xamira hovered higher, and that was when she noticed the movement—smooth, coordinated, too deliberate. A small group slipping through the shifting crowd.
At first glance, they blended perfectly. Some wore warrior uniforms. Others kept their heads lowered like ordinary citizens complying with orders. But their steps were wrong. They were too light, too silent, and too predatory.
