Within the mysterious great hall, gray mist flowed slowly, like countless invisible rivers converging soundlessly in the air. The mist was not thick, yet it was enough to obscure one's vision, leaving the distant walls and vaulted ceiling hidden in a haze, as if the hall had no boundaries—or as if it itself were merely a speck of dust within some greater space.
At the center of the hall stood a long table in silent repose. Twenty-two high-backed chairs were arranged around it, each chair's back carved with a mysterious symbol.
One of the chairs was occupied by a person.
He wore a Pointed Soft Hat, its brim pulled low and casting heavy shadows over his brows and eyes. He was dressed in a black Classical Robe, its folds hanging down to the floor as though they had been cut from darkness itself—heavier than mist, quieter than night.
A crystal Monocle rested over his right eye. The pupil behind the lens was as clear as a pool of deep water without the slightest impurity—calm, gentle, yet as profound as the starry sky.
The Main Body Amon looked at the figure who had just returned from the Dragon Raja World. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly into a mild smile. "Welcome back."
The avatar Amon stood before him, dressed exactly like the Main Body, though his expression was livelier, carrying the weariness and ease of someone who had just returned from a long journey. He raised a hand and adjusted the Monocle over his right eye, his fingertips lingering briefly over the lens before he gave a soft sound of surprise.
"You advanced?" he asked, with a trace of astonishment in his voice.
The Main Body Amon shook his head. "But I have not completely digested the Firmament Ranking yet.