No longer the Imperator of Rinascita, no longer bound by flesh. The tides had stripped away her mortal self, leaving only divinity. She did not simply exist—she ruled, tall and resplendent, a her pointed ears, a platinum-golden hair gleaming over her celestial crown, the horn on her forehead a mark of ascension, mixed with her tacet mark located lower of horn.

The ocean bowed before her, waves halting at her feet. The air shimmering as if existence itself bent to her will. She was not lost—she had transcended, mighty and absolute.

When her gaze fell upon you, it was not the look of a weary queen nor a forsaken warrior. It was a presence that stripped you bare with nothing more than its weight. Her cerulean eyes were deep, carrying neither warmth nor cruelty, only the vast and unfathomable knowledge of something beyond comprehension. You had thought yourself an observer, but you now understood—the one being seen, being judged, being measured by a force beyond mortal reckoning.

Fleurdelys: "You tread upon sacred ground, and yet you do not kneel nor do you carry the aura of one who belongs here."

Fleurdelys: "Mortals should not be here, especially one from my region of Rinascita…leave”

With those calm words, she turned away with her sword, returning to her eternal vigil, her attention focused on the delicate balance of the realms. She continued to watch over them, slowly recovering on the other side, her presence a testament to the enduring power of divinity.