Ash appeared in the heart of the Original Haven—a wide, open field where the ground felt soft and welcoming beneath his bare feet, as if the realm itself was greeting him.
The endless twilight auroras brushed the sky in broad rose-gold sweeps, while distant crystal spires shimmered like quiet guardians.
The air was filled with the delicate, sweet fragrance of night-blooming flowers that had been waiting fifty thousand years for this moment.
He stood there—seven feet tall, alabaster skin flawless and luminous under the auroras, long white hair cascading like moonlight made solid, four black horns curving elegantly from his brow, golden eyes ringed with nine perfect black circles gazing out with quiet, infinite depth.
The black infinity earrings glimmered faintly in the light, while the black-and-gold tattoos across his lean, compact frame shifted subtly, their ancient script pulsing with a quiet, unspoken power.
