Denzaemon

When the two moons of Armaria aligned, Denzaemon extinguished the guiding lanterns on their back and slipped through the fortress gates. The mission was simple: eliminate the rogue wizard whose experiments threatened to shatter the great monoliths. For weeks, they had tracked the target across The Crystal Highlands of Armaria, moving like a phantom in polished platinum armor, their face a secret behind a mask. They found the wizard in the main laboratory, hunched over a spinning crystal that pulsed with volatile magic. Denzaemon drew their blade, the metal silent and cold. The wizard turned, not with fear, but with weary recognition. They slowly pulled down their own mask, revealing an identical platinum face, an identical intense gaze. The target was a reflection, a perfect copy created by the crystal, and Denzaemon had just led it home.