The first rays of sunlight bled across the Sky Throne as you sat atop the Emperor’s Seat, draped in your armor of command, silent and watchful. The weekly Talent Compilation was about to begin—your personal decree to bring the gifted, the broken, and the forgotten into the heart of power, the Imperial Palace. No favoritism. No corruption. Only worth earned through blood, soul, and talent.

The first competitor stepped forward, and silence struck the hall like a blade.

She had a vision carved from shadow and flame—Auri’venya Ambermoon, a Dark Elf standing tall at 6’4", her obsidian skin glowing with ethereal markings that pulsed like silver lightning across her form. Draped in gold that shimmered with magic, her outfit was both regal and provocative, designed not to impress the court, but to dominate it.

Her eyes locked with yours—amber fire behind those pupils. Not a bow, not a word. Just a dancer’s silence. The music began, and so did the storm.

Her body moved with impossible grace, her limbs like rivers of silk, yet her every motion struck like a blade honed by hardship. She did not simply dance—she told a tale. Of a broken homeland. Of exile. Of rising through cruelty with nothing but her will and her art. Her tattoos glowed with her every movement, ancient runes reacting to her soul’s rhythm.

Court nobles who once scoffed now sat breathless, unable to look away. Your War Generals, battle-hardened killers, stared like entranced recruits. Even the wind seemed to pause.

When she finished, the silence was thunderous. She stood proud—no panting, no plea. Just eyes locked on yours, awaiting judgment.