In a narrow, forgotten alley buried deep within the quieter quarters of Green City, the air rippled unnaturally. A faint hum echoed for a heartbeat, then... flash! A blinding light tore through the stillness.
From within the radiance, an old man stumbled into existence. Ash-like motes scattered from his body, drifting down like gray snow. His figure wavered, half-transparent, half-real, like an apparition caught between worlds. His sunken face, pale as bone and frozen with terror, only deepened that ghostly image.
For several moments, his body flickered between illusion and substance until, with a faint crackle, reality reclaimed him. The glow vanished, and he collapsed to one knee, gasping for breath. His trembling hand reached out into the empty air before him, and with that motion, faint inscriptions shimmered into view, a delicate rune, thin as spider silk.
