The Terror You Don't Know About
Gilbert stood amidst three individuals, each exuding an aura of power and purpose.
One had deep blue hair that cascaded over broad shoulders, boasting of an Olympian athletic build adorned gracefully with a blue armor that seemed to shimmer with an inner light.
The next wore a casual thick coat, an indifferent cold look etched onto his features as if he had seen too much of the world's cruelties.
The last was a dark-skinned lady with a tank top that only covered her ample breasts, leaving toned arms and a taut midriff exposed.
She looked at Gilbert, her grey eyes brimming with an unwavering focus that spoke of a will tempered by countless battles.
As he addressed all three of them, someone quickly approached and whispered something into Gilbert's ear, their words carried on hushed tones laced with urgency.
Immediately, Gilbert's expression darkened, the lines of his face hardening as if etched from stone.