The air didn't just grow cold; it ceased to exist.
Where the grey mist of Selene's "Grey Erase" touched the vibrant, sun-drenched silks of the Southern elite, the very concept of color was extinguished. The vibrant oranges and regal purples of the Council's finery didn't just fade—they were bleached into a chalky, monochromatic dust. The marble of the Border-Spire's plaza, once a pristine white that reflected the arrogance of the Sun-Drenched Alphas, groaned under a layer of necrotic frost that hummed with the sound of a thousand whispering graves.
I stood at the center of the chaos, the Sanguine Empress awakening in the marrow of my bones. The red-gold scales on my neck pulsed with a fierce, rhythmic heat, a physical barrier against the biting, hollow chill of the Void. My eyes—one gold, one sapphire, both rimmed with a lethal, liquid crimson—locked onto my sister.
