Agnos smirked behind us. "Careful, Carl. The gods might take offense to your critique of their architecture. You don't want to end up as a cautionary tale for mortals."
I groaned but said nothing as we approached the Moon Wing. The double doors—etched with lunar phases and shimmering like liquid silver—swung open with a low, resonant creak.
A soft, cool light spilled out, bathing us in a glow that made me feel weightless, as if gravity had temporarily forgotten its job, revealing a stoic figure waiting just inside.
The butler, clad in flowing robes of deep blue and silver, looked like he had stepped out of a celestial tapestry. A crescent moon crest adorned his forehead, and his every movement was deliberate, exuding an air of quiet authority.
"Lord Tsukuyomi will attend to you shortly," he said, bowing gracefully. His voice was smooth, like polished glass, but carried the faintest hint of impatience. "In the meantime, you may wait in the guest area. Follow me."
