[???]
The vast destruction in the distance did not even deserve his gaze. The world trembled, yet those beautiful red eyes were much too preoccupied with something far more important.
Mikoto sat leisurely atop a jagged boulder, his posture relaxed. The air around him thick, heavy with the residual mana of battle, and the wind howled through the broken landscape, whipping his wild white hair across his face. But he paid it no mind.
His gaze was fixed entirely on his right arm.
Gone was the familiar black gauntlet he was so used to, instead, a radiant white gauntlet encased his forearm.
