Braz Daniel Blood stood atop the highest parapet of the Acropolis citadel when the first tremors shook the ground—subtle at first, then growing into a low, rhythmic pulse. Below him, the courtyard’s tiles cracked as fissures birthed something entirely new: sinewy, iridescent creatures with elongated limbs and no discernible faces—just smooth, undulating flesh that caught the torchlight like oil on water. Braz’s crimson gaze narrowed as he descended the broad staircase, every step measured.

He approached the nearest creature, its form rippling as it sensed his presence. Braz extended a single hand—pale and aristocratic—toward its shimmering side. “What are you?” he whispered, voice calm but edged with authority. The monster recoiled only momentarily, then leaned into his palm, its flesh warping around his fingers with surprising delicacy. In that instant, Braz realized these beings were not born of malice or hunger—they were explorers themselves, drawn to power and new domains.

Braz stepped back, folding his arms thoughtfully. “I am Braz Daniel Blood,” he declared, voice carrying across the stunned onlookers. “And you stand in the heart of my domain.” For a long moment, the monsters remained motionless, as if deliberating some silent negotiation. Then, in unison, they let forth a series of soft, harmonic chimes—an unspoken greeting. Braz allowed himself the tiniest of smiles. “Very well. You may stay… for now. But heed this: any who threaten the balance of my world will meet the edge of my blade.” With that, the new species bowed their faceless heads, and an uneasy truce settled over the Acropolis—one that Braz intended to uphold with both grace and ruthless vigilance.