The skies above the Arcanis Region bled a dull crimson.
Once a land rich with spires of arcane brilliance, where towers of floating citadels glimmered under mana-fueled constellations, Arcanis now lay in ruin. Mana storms howled across the broken skyline, their colorless lightning tearing through what was once the pinnacle of magical civilization. Where the prestigious Dawning of Magic Academy once stood—a crown jewel of the Human Territory—there was only a void, an obliterated scar on the land.
Amidst it all, a tall, robed figure drifted forward in silence, his body untouched by the chaotic winds.
Endless.
His form seemed both real and unreal—more silhouette than substance, more darkness than flesh. His robe trailed across the shattered cobblestone as if even gravity feared to bind him. Behind him floated a pale orb: a miniature eclipse that devoured the light around it. It pulsed with each step he took, synchronized with the breathing of the dying land.
