What Raven became defied every known standard of Essence manifestation. It was like a vision torn from the heart of the sun—blinding, immaculate, and terrible in its perfection. Four vast wings, each feather tipped in molten gold, spread wide enough to eclipse the sky.
Her form was lithe yet sculpted with divine precision, clad not in armor but in a seamless fusion of flesh and celestial metal that radiated both grace and finality.
Her head was crowned with a halo of living light, faceless yet impossibly present, with an eye of pure radiance set into her chest—watching, judging, knowing.
Golden talons curled at the ends of her hands and feet, each one sharp enough to carve the very air, while a crescent-shaped blade of light curved from the tip of her tail, swaying like the pendulum of some heavenly executioner.
All of them, especially Eli, stared in awe. She didn't look like an Essence Manifestation.
