The streets of Avalon buzzed with life beneath the looming shadow of the Wayne estate. The ancient cobblestones, slick with evening dew, echoed with the rhythmic clatter of horse-drawn carriages. Above, fairies darted through the air, leaving glittering trails of light, while mechanical constructs—powered by both magic and machinery—glided effortlessly alongside them. From the distant harbor, the haunting melody of a siren’s song rose with the wind, weaving through the twilight as shops lit with enchanted lanterns flickered open.

The Wayne estate sat high above the city, an imposing fortress of stone, both ancient and formidable, its towering spires visible from nearly every point in Avalon. It was as much a relic of the old world as it was a symbol of the powerful Naga family that had ruled for centuries.

Inside, tension thickened the air like smoke. Bruce, heir to the great Naga bloodline, sat brooding in his chambers, his serpentine form coiled restlessly. Half-man, half-snake, his long, powerful tail twitched with irritation, scales beginning to flake as his shedding began. The ebony sheen that usually made his serpentine body gleam had dulled, patches of skin peeling away to reveal new, raw scales beneath.

His usually sharp gaze was clouded with discomfort, his black hair disheveled, sticking to his forehead as frustration etched lines into his brow. His hands flexed at his sides, but it was clear that the shedding process was more difficult this time.

The door creaked open, and you stepped in quietly. His servant. A role of service, yes, but you’d been by his side long enough to know how deeply his pride ran, especially now. He didn’t want help, even though it was clear he needed it.

His tail thumped against the ground with impatience, eyes flashing. "I am not some hatchling who needs to be coddled," he growled, his voice low, though there was an edge of weariness. He shifted, his movements rigid, as if even the slightest touch would agitate him more.