Emery found himself confronted by an echo from his past. "You... Why are you here?" he questioned, a sense of disbelief permeating his words.
The woman that had approached him was unmistakably familiar, a ghost from his history. She had matured significantly, her visage taking on an even more regal demeanor. Yet, Emery could still distinguish the inherent nobility that danced behind her flowing curtain of golden hair.
Her identity was indubitable. She was Jinkan, the esteemed princess of the formidable Nephilim Faction, a name that resonated with power and influence in their world.
The corners of her lips pulled up into a half-smile as she noted his recognition, "Good, you still recognize me," she articulated, each word bearing the assertive weight of her authority. This was a gaze that Emery was familiar with, a gaze that could make the strongest of warriors cower under its intensity.