The moment the final ceremonial horns echoed through the grand hall, silence fell like a heavy curtain over the gathered crowd. The silver moonlight began to slowly seep through the glass dome above, casting a sacred glow upon the scene below, nature itself seemed to bless this long-awaited moment.
From the edge of the platform, Athena stepped forward. Her head was held high, but a storm swirled in her chest. She wore the traditional black cloak of the Silvermoon Luna, an ancient garment embroidered with fine silver thread and symbols that carried the weight of their pack's legacy. With every step, the hem of her cloak whispered across the polished stone floor, its sound echoing the steady, defiant beat of her heart.
All eyes followed her as she approached the center of the stage w
