A few miles away from the mysterious ancient city, a group stood atop a small hill formed from broken bones, shattered weapons, and remnants of rusted armor.
Each member of the group was clad in thick black robes that draped heavily over their bodies.
The fabric was dense and unnatural, concealing every inch of their form from their heads to their boots, leaving no hint of skin, shape, or gender.
Their hoods hung low, casting deep shadows over their faces, shadows so dense that staring into them gave the unsettling illusion of gazing into an endless abyss.
With such identical attire, it was impossible to distinguish one from another.
They stood as if molded from the same template, their presence cold and uniform, like manifestations of a single will rather than individuals.
For a long moment, the group remained motionless, resembling statues carved from darkness.
A heavy silence blanketed the hill.
Even the wind seemed reluctant to pass through the space they occupied.
