Now We Wait

Leonel appeared in a world of ice. He wore a fluttering cloak of white that would have looked perfect for an assassin if not for its bright shade. Every time the wind rebuffed against it, it would radiate a delicate sky blue light that made it look absolutely magical. 

He was still experimenting with "cool" uniforms and he had to admit that he quite liked this one, especially when the white gloves and snowboarding goggles matched with it. 

'Seven out of ten,' Leonel thought to himself. 'We can still do better. Much better.'

All this said, he didn't just wear this outfit for the sake of the looks. It was truly cold in this world. 

This place was under the control of the Nomad Race, a special variant of them with skin that looked drained of all blood. They were especially lanky, and it looked as though they were in a constant state of hibernation.