The train is under attack.
The passengers are scattered.
The conductor is nowhere to be found.
A silver haired man clad in white stands atop a cliff overlooking the carnage. Purpled veins pulsate as they spread from a mark at the base of his neck. His golden eyes scan the valley once and, muttering under his breath, hundreds of magic circles fill the sky. In a flash of white, all the passengers and villains are gone.
The man’s hands are both withered black and he clicks his tongue. “Useless.”
His eyes roll back and the body duplicates into numerous figures that dissipate as they step through several portals.
Day 1:
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