But just as Apollo and the two were leaving, another group of people appeared.
A spatial ripple tore open in the distance—and another group emerged. Their footsteps echoed faintly over the cracked battlefield, where the scent of divine blood still lingered in the air.
The group that appeared was weird, as it seemed it wasn't a single force but a combination of multiple smaller forces in the universe. There wasn't a single transcendent force member within the group.
Not on that they seemed to lead by the weird inhabitant of the sanctum, whose aura was a bit mysterious.
Tall, thin, draped in robes woven from strands of star-dust and shadows, the leader wasn't human.
His eyes glowed a dull silver aura, like old moonlight reflecting off still water, and his skin carried faint patterns—runes or scars—that shifted subtly as he walked. The space around him rippled unnaturally, as though the Sanctum itself bent slightly to accommodate his presence.
