The Pope's throne room was empty when the Chained Man entered. The old man was with his precious Synod, trying to put out the fires of his own making.
In the war between the Church and the Monarchy, King Mikael was already ahead. He now had a slowly growing army with Resonance magic, and the public opinion on his side.
But that didn't matter to the Chained Man. He was just here for the chaos.
The massive double doors of the room closed behind him with a reverberating boom, their echoes rolling across the marble like distant thunder.
Every step he took echoed through the air with a slow, deliberate cadence, the clink of the chains wrapped around his torso and limbs filling the air with a strange but comforting rhythm.
He walked with no urgency, like a ghost returning to a place he had been watching from the dark. And now, he was stepping into the light.
