The soft sound of horns and humming engines echoed between the towering skyscrapers, a familiar lullaby of a city surviving another ordinary afternoon. The sun, unusually gentle, cast long shadows, and the air carried a strange stillness—as if holding its breath.
Atop one of the tallest buildings, four figures stood, cloaked in white. Their attire fluttered in the breeze, pristine and regal against the modern skyline.
Aeron stood at the front, unmoving, his eyes scanning the horizon like a king surveying a battlefield.
Behind him, his Sentinels—Argo, Valera, and Kairo—waited, their presence sharp and menacing.
"It's time," Aeron said quietly, turning his head just enough for them to hear.
A subtle grin touched the lips of each Sentinel.
"What about the others, my lord?" Argo asked.
"Everything is set in motion," Aeron replied. "And everything will go according to my plan. Now go—my Sentinels. Wreak havoc… and make sure the world hears these humans scream."
