Everyone stared at the vibrant fissure in reality itself as the heartbeat echoed throughout the street. Their faces hardened, and their grip on weapons tightened. They looked at the dreamgate with vigilance, waiting for the next wave to begin.
Not a single voice slipped from their lips, their breaths were hitched, and the whole street was shrouded in silence, the warning siren being the only sound present in all of it.
The arcane knights held their gazes fixed on the man who stood… or sat at the forefront of all this. They couldn't see his face behind the icy plain mask, but his cold eyes told them stories unknowingly, each one of them was a dreadful tale that was why they called him—
'Faceless ice phantom… what are you going to do now?'
