The wind shifted. An ancient presence filled the air as god Tsukuyomi descended, not with thunder like Susanoo, but with a serene and suffocating stillness. The pressure that followed him was cold, heavy, and silent. But undoubtly strong.
He landed gracefully on the shattered marble, his feet barely making a sound. The soldiers that still alive and havily injured instinctively parted, bowing their heads and trembling as relief and fear mingled in their hearts.
Tsukuyomi, the Moon god, stood tall with expression he tried to make as composed as posssible.
He was wearing layered robes of woven colors of dark indigo and pale silver that shimmered. Etched across the sleeves and hem were runes of old Celestial characters that glowed in rhythm.
His armor was seamless, elegant and smooth like liquid metal, adorned with concentric lunar sigils.
