Moments later,

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It was subtle - a shift in pressure, a ripple in the ambient magical field, the kind of disturbance that preceded the arrival of something significant. Her team felt it too.

Leo's hand drifted toward his rifle. Ophiuchus's pupils dilated, vertical slits widening. Scorpio stopped smiling.

The crowd parted again, but this time not from instinctive fear. This time from recognition.

He walked like a general who had forgotten he wasn't on a battlefield. Tall, broad-shouldered, his dark hair cropped close to his skull in the military fashion of the Central Kingdom's officer class.

His eyes were the color of steel - cold, assessing, missing nothing. He...