The remnants of the light spilled from the gaps in the lead-gray walls, spreading a soft contour in the hall.
Above the circular railing of the hall, the figure of the young man in a white suit resembled the gentle moonlight, the ginkgo cufflinks on his wrist still shimmering.
He stepped out from the darkness and into the brightly lit area.
The light tinged his features, which resembled those of Acto—Acto's visage was not sharp; it was even somewhat gentle. But when the deity used this face, his eyes carried not a trace of warmth; instead, they were like the cold, piercing spikes of ice.
The wary and fearful gazes of the people followed this deity as he ascended the steps, his glance falling downward as he surveyed everyone.
