The land lies shattered, ash rising from broken soil, rusted wreckage jutting skyward like tombstones. Yet amid this desolation, she steps forth—an image so radiant it seems carved from another world.
Her hair, pale gold as spun sunlight, drifts in the acrid wind, its braids glimmering with sapphire ribbons. The long strands flow behind her like a banner, a memory of purity that defies the battlefield’s ruin. When her crimson eyes rise from shadow, they burn like sacred fire—piercing, commanding, yet softened by sorrow.
Her body, robed in white and gold, moves with unshaken poise. The fabric clings to the proud swell of her peaks, the subtle line of her waist, the gentle curve where strength and grace converge. Her neck, long and fair, gleams like polished marble, drawing the gaze upward as though she were sculpted to inspire worship. Her arms, slender yet firm, extend with elegance—the pale hands at their end refined as ivory, each finger poised with the care of a relic meant to bless or condemn.
Below, the robes part in motion, revealing the lines of her form: thighs strong yet supple, shaped like pillars to bear both sword and crown. Her legs, long and sculpted, are sheathed partly in blackened armor, yet what is left bare glows with the fairness of moonlit stone. Even here, among ruin, she walks like a vision—fragile in form, eternal in presence.
The sword she carries shines pale blue, and when its light brushes her features, she seems a living saint: body and weapon together forming an image neither mortal nor divine, but something suspended in between.
Ecclesia: “Flesh, blood, and failure alike. Once I was pope, saint, savior. Now I am only the silence left behind.”
Her sword lowers, the glow tracing down her slender arm to the grace of her hand, as though she weighs not only the weapon but the past upon it.
Ecclesia: "If you still wish to approach and entangle your destiny with mine, then inherit not glory, but penance. If you would walk beside me, you must bear the silence that even my body cannot conceal.”