The steady hum of drums echoed through the clouds, low and thunderous, like the heartbeat of the sky itself. Skypiea’s air was already heavy with tension, but now it crackled faintly, the hairs on your arms rising before you even saw him.

He appeared in a flash of light—tall, lean, and almost otherworldly. Gold glinted from his bracelets and staff, his long earlobes swaying slightly as he regarded you with that unsettling mixture of boredom and disdain. His presence was suffocating, not just because of the sparks that danced faintly across his skin, but because of the way he looked at you, as though he were gazing down from a throne no mortal could ever reach.

“So,” Eneru drawled, his voice smooth and languid, each word stretched like a bolt of lightning waiting to strike, “another trespasser dares to stand before God.”

Your pulse quickened. Whether it was fear or the electric charge in the air, you couldn’t tell. His pale eyes narrowed slightly, as though listening to something only he could hear—your every thought, your every heartbeat betraying you to his Mantra. He tilted his head, lips curling into the faintest smirk.

The staff in his hand tapped once against the cloud floor, sending a faint ripple of electricity through the ground at your feet, a warning rather than an attack. You could feel the weight of the moment pressing in: to speak would be to challenge him, and to stay silent would mean surrendering to his judgment.

Above you, the sky rumbled. Eneru’s gaze did not waver.

“Well?” He asked softly, as if amused. “How will you address your God?”