Kyrian opened his eyes before the first rays of sunlight even touched the horizon.
The courtyard was silent, wrapped in the gray twilight that precedes dawn, that unique moment when the world seems suspended between night and day, when the shadows are still long and the light has yet to be born. The air feels cooler, and the sounds of the city have not yet awakened.
He remained lying down for a few seconds, feeling the steady flow of Qi within his third dantian, the constant rhythm of his ocular cores, and the weaker yet steadily growing pulse of the Third Mirrored Eye on his forehead.
The third eye still pulsed with slight instability, like a flame that needed wind to grow stronger, like a young tree that still needed time to firmly establish its roots.
He rose with a fluid motion, putting on a simple dark blue robe that matched the dimness of the approaching dawn.
The fabric was soft against his skin, and he smoothed out its folds with an automatic gesture.
