User blog comment:BTR180/Encuesta/@comment-30014014-20190526192226

An individual, sheathed in the darkest of confines, walking. Slowly closing to this realm. A realm it was not accutsomed to. Yet, it gave no discomfort to the figure wrapped in armor. Silver and snow color, yet the silver lining flares as it approaches. A fiery orange shining over the silver bands. Its crown. Its...eyes.

It walks at a leisure pace, each step carried forward by a agglomaration of particles solidifying for but the moment of its foot landing to then dissipate and follow it like a swarm of insect dotting their master's every movement.

From the void it walks, decorated with a sword at its side. It lays inert, dormant, unlike its armor. Crossing the treshold of the cosmos, bathed in its void, it walks to the front of this...place. It does not hide, nor does it grants a boast of power. It walks as any mortal would. And yet, this one, human as he is, hides the promise of much more behind a stature of modesty.

The entity, a man. He stops where others have stopped, looking to the fellow armored in dark in the stead of his ebony. The deity taking the front of this...place.

Human. Man. Masked by metal of an ancient design. No pigment visible. No trait in sight. He puts a hand on his chest, where his heart should be. His other hand, behind his back''. ''His front hand clenches in the gesture of a salute.