The sky of New Astora had changed. The serene indigo had been replaced by a swirling, gold-flecked nebula that pulsed with a slow, rhythmic heartbeat. It wasn't a natural phenomenon; it was the "Gaze." Above the city, thirteen massive, golden apertures—the eyes of the Board of Directors—loomed like celestial surveillance cameras. They didn't just watch; they weighed. They didn't just see; they judged.
Kaelen stood on the highest balcony of the white-and-obsidian Spire, his charcoal-grey Void-Skin rippling as it absorbed the atmospheric pressure. Beside him, Lucius looked at the sky, his hand resting on the hilt of his iron sword. The former General's face was etched with a mixture of awe and terror.
"They're not just 'Players' anymore, are they?" Lucius whispered.
