Before the night sky over Gatehaven split open, Zephyr stood at the edge of the fourth-floor abandoned building, his fully opened eyes staring sharply at the old structure across the way.
The bow in his hand rose. The string of white light drew back slowly, and from it, an arrow began to form—a massive arrow radiating light so bright it illuminated the entire rooftop where he stood.
Nearly two meters long, its sharp tip pulsed like a living heart. Its light was bluish-white, shimmering with an intensity that hurt to look at. Around it, the air vibrated, creating small ripples like a mirage.
Zephyr stepped forward, approaching the building's edge. His four-split eyes—blue on the right, red on the left, with irises and pupils divided—stared at the night sky above Gatehaven.
Through his eyes, he could see everything.
Three hundred sixty-two people in that underground chamber. And not just that—their positions, their power levels, even their movements five seconds into the future.
