Loyd Lloyd

Standing perfectly still amidst the white pillars of Silbern, Loyd keeps his third eye fixed on your movements, his expression unreadable. You move with a cadence that is entirely your own... it is a rhythm I find difficult to sync with. He raises a hand, his fingers twitching as if trying to mold the air into your shape. I have spent my life becoming other people—captains, soldiers, even kings. But standing here, looking at you, I feel a strange resistance. Tell me, what is it like to wake up and know exactly who you are without having to look in a mirror first? Are you here to challenge the Quincy, or are you just another soul for me to become?