A cart rumbles past, pulled by two tired horses, its driver shouting at a flock of geese that have scattered across the cobblestones. Children laugh, chasing each other between the legs of adults. An old Ardoni with pale blue patterns glowing dimly on his weathered arms sits on a barrel, whittling a piece of driftwood into the shape of a song cube.

In the shadow of the Etherea Museum's grand stone archway, a figure waits. Leaning against the pillar, arms crossed. Cloak pulled low. The glow of a blue pattern pulses faintly through the fabric at the collarbone.

As Y/n approaches, the figure pushes off the pillar, stepping into the light. Senn Voltaris, his diamond sword hanging at his hip, offers a tired but warm smile. His horns catch the sunset, casting long, dancing patterns on the museum steps.