Leon followed the Dowager through the thinning mist, his squad moving in a tight line behind him.
The world around them blurred in shades of pale white, each step sounding distant, as if the ground itself struggled to exist.
His eyes narrowed without warning.
'What was that?'
A faint pulse crawled across his senses, vague yet sharp enough to leave a mark.
Leon had always trusted his gut, it never lied.
But this, this strange mixture of warning and invitation, felt like someone was tugging him forward while shoving him back.
He shook his head, unfazed.
'Whatever it is, I'll just hit it hard enough until it's no longer a problem.'
A sigh brushed through his mind.
'When will you outgrow this phase?' Originus murmured, the ancient dragon's voice carrying the weight of eras.
Leon didn't bother answering.
Deep down, he felt the dragon had no idea what he was talking about.
