The broadcast began with a face the world was still learning to recognize.
Damon Draven stood behind a polished black podium, his figure sharp against the pale grey backdrop of the Astra Union's press hall. He was twenty-four years old, lean and tall, with silver-grey hair combed back from a face that was handsome in a sharp, precise way. His dark skin stood out against the bright lights of the hall, the same warm shade as his sister Helene's.
His grey eyes held the quiet confidence of someone who had achieved more by twenty-four than most achieved in a lifetime.
He wore a fitted black suit with silver cufflinks, his top button undone — a small break from formality designed to signal that the youngest Transcendent in the empire was modern, sharp, and entirely unbound by the old ways.
Behind him, a massive holographic display hovered over the stage, projecting the Astra Union's emblem: a silver eye surrounded by interlocking rings.
