Franca strained her eyes, attempting to discern the figure amidst the dimly lit surroundings. The tall buildings loomed mysteriously, their outlines blending with the fog, reminiscent of stars reflecting on a foggy night.
In the distance, lights flickered, accompanied by indistinct honking sounds.
Wh… Franca's pupils dilated, and her eyes widened in astonishment.
Her heart, previously gripped by the effects of Naboredisley's frenzied curse, now surged with shock.
Instinctively, she focused all her might on the figure, trying to pierce through the layers of gray fog and unravel its face and clothing. However, the thin fog grew hazier, dissipating along with the fleeting images it carried.
In just three to four seconds, the mirror on the altar reverted to its normal state.
"What's wrong?" Lumian turned to Flores, who lingered in the residual gray fog, seeking an update on Franca's condition.
