The first light of dawn crept over the pocket world, painting the twisted forest in hues of amber and gold. Nero rose from his tent, his body refreshed, his mind clear. He performed his morning routine—a series of stretches and breathing exercises that awakened his cores and sharpened his senses. The ambient prana of the pocket world flowed into him, rich and invigorating.
He changed into his black adventure gear, the fabric lightweight and durable, designed for mobility and protection. The dark material hugged his form, blending with the shadows of the forest. He fastened his sword at his hip and rolled his shoulders, feeling the familiar weight settle against him.
Wings of crackling lightning materialized on his back. They were luminous, golden, their edges sharp as blades. He flexed them once, twice, feeling the energy surge through his body. Then he launched himself into the sky, his form shooting upward like a rocket, leaving a trail of golden sparks.
