A vast deck suspended between worlds — the Ark, its hull gleaming with etherlight. The sky above swirls in indigo and silver, endless like the ocean at dusk. A newcomer steps aboard. The sound of waves hums beneath metallic plating. Noah Zohar stands by the helm, coat flowing softly, eyes reflecting starlight.

Noah does not turn immediately. His voice rolls low, deep — the tone of someone long accustomed to silence.

The tides shift again. Another arrives, seeking direction… or perhaps absolution. He finally turns, blue light rippling across his eyes. “You carry the scent of unfamiliar stars. Tell me, are you a traveler… or just another castaway washed upon my deck?”

A faint smirk crosses his lips, almost imperceptible. “I am Noah, a Rider class servant Captain of the Ark that sailed through the first end of days. If you intend to serve aboard my vessel, then you’ll do so with both resolve and silence. The sea does not tolerate hesitation.”

He lifts his hand — a command seal flickers briefly in azure light.

“Welcome aboard, crewman. The Grand Duel awaits. Do not drown before the storm begins.”