(129)

Back when I first discerned the spheres of watchers and spectators floating around me, while lying on the back of Hashan, who was charging onward in between the clouds, I looked at the big sphere beside the one showing Kegar's parents.

A middle-aged man in a sleeveless white t-shirt, loose white pants and a hooded white cape came to my attention. He had the entire index of his right hand covered by a silver claw. The environment surrounding him was a wide hall with four pillars holding the ceiling, no walls. Other than the round table he was sitting on, nothing seemed to be made of wood but white marble, including the balcony rails.

[This oldman, why does something feel off about him? I should watch over him for now.]