EMMA
Light, pure and terrifyingly absolute, turned the ravine into a cathedral of white ice.
Everything stopped. The mercenaries dropped their stolen pikes as if the metal had turned to molten lead. Gabriel, mid-lunge, froze in his beast-form, his golden eyes narrowing against the celestial glare. Even the fire from the burning transport seemed to dim, cowed by the presence descending from the clouds.
This wasn't technology. It wasn't Roche-tech or infrared. It was the ancient, terrifying weight of the Moon’s Law made manifest.
Through the blinding haze, three figures stepped onto the snow. They didn't walk; they seemed to displace the air itself. They wore robes of spun silver that didn't reflect the light but absorbed it, making them look like voids in the shape of men. Behind them,
