Arrivals... Dracula

At the portal station, a figure stepped out, flanked by seven elven guards moving in perfect sync. Their auras surged like invisible waves, pressure rolling off them in bursts, thick enough to make the air feel heavier. The portal operator, a sleek, humanoid AI with a featureless face, gestured them forward with a polite nod.

But unlike her guards, the woman leading them didn't flaunt her power. She didn't need to.

The Supreme Judge.

Her white hair, silky and flowing, framed a face as flawless as sculpted marble, sharp golden eyes scanning everything with cool precision. Her beauty was impossible to ignore—curves wrapped in a crimson judge's dress that clung just enough to make a statement. Yet, there was no aura, no flex of power. Nothing screaming danger. But that made it worse.

Because she was dangerous.