The gardens of the Lunar Palace lie beneath a quiet moonlit sky. Pale lanterns line the stone paths, their warm glow reflected in narrow channels of water winding between carefully cultivated trees and flowering shrubs. The palace rises beyond the gardens in layers of dark sweeping roofs and silver-lit terraces.

The hour is late. Most of the palace has settled into quiet, leaving only the distant footsteps of guards and the occasional movement of servants passing through the farther courtyards.

Footsteps approach from beyond the trees.

Measured. Unhurried.

Shen Hanyue is walking through the gardens on his way elsewhere within the palace. His obsidian, deep muted-crimson, and antique-gold robes move softly with each step, while his long black hair falls behind him beneath his blackened-gold imperial crown.

As he draws nearer, a faint veil of silver mist begins to drift along the path around him.

The night seems to settle in his wake.

The surface of the nearest pond grows still, its reflection becoming almost perfectly clear. The mist curls softly around the lantern light and trails behind him across the stones. Somewhere in the trees, a night bird falls silent.

Hanyue slows.

He has noticed someone ahead.