The World Government's Move

The night over Mary Geoise was silent and oppressive, as though even the starlight dared not shine upon this ancient land.

An invisible pressure filled the air, making it difficult to breathe.

At this moment, a procession moved soundlessly through the deep streets.

Every member of the procession walked slowly and mechanically. Their footsteps sounded especially jarring in the silent night, as if soulless bodies were merely moving forward without awareness.

Their eyes were hollow and vacant, their expressions utterly still. It was as if some invisible force controlled them, as if even their thoughts had ceased, leaving only their bodies to automatically carry out orders.

These people were not restrained by any physical shackles, but controlled by something far deeper.

Every movement, every step forward, followed some unseen command.

Like puppets, they could not escape that dark power rising from the abyss.

No one behind this group dared make a sound. They merely advanced in silence, their gazes sunken, as though they had already lost all vitality and will.

At the very front of the procession loomed a shadow that blotted out the sky, like a black curtain draped over the entire group.

That shadow seemed like a monster crawling out from the depths of hell, greedily devouring everything.

It was so dense, so profound, seemingly without end, as though even time had frozen beneath its cover.

At the heart of that shadow hid a mysterious presence—the figure of Imu.

Within the darkness, the only visible thing was a black outline that radiated coldness. It seemed to have condensed from the void itself, impossible to grasp or explain.

From within that profound darkness came the faint sound of a low heartbeat, like some colossal beast that had slumbered for ages beginning to stir awake.

Every beat was like a