"Ash Phantom: The Legend Reborn"

The evening sky draped itself in orange and gold as the luxury ship slowed, the waves turning calmer, almost as if they too were welcoming Baku City. A distant bell rang across the decks, followed by the captain's voice over the speakers, "Ladies and gentlemen… we have arrived at Baku City. Thank you for sharing this journey with us. The gates are now open."

Ravi gently placed his hand on Auren's shoulder, then rolled the wheelchair forward. Beside them walked Vivi, her mother Alina trailing close. No one spoke — the silence carried its own weight, thick with the unspoken thought that something here would change Auren's life forever.

They entered the lift, the faint hum filling the quiet. Auren's eyes caught a glimmer through the glass walls — the sprawling city slowly coming into view. Towers kissed the sunset, their peaks crowned with glowing stuff that floated gently like lanterns in the air, casting shimmers over the canals weaving through the streets.

When the lift doors opened onto the open deck, the air of Baku City swept in — warm, salty, and alive with a strange sweetness. People stood gathered, smiling at Auren as if welcoming thier hero who saved them from sea monster ..

An old woman stepped forward, her steps slow but steady, her wrinkled eyes soft with kindness. She placed a trembling hand on Auren's head, brushing his hair gently."Don't lose that bracelet I gave you," she whispered. "It was my son's… he was dear to me. I see my child in you. Keep him alive."

Auren looked at her, his gaze heavy yet warm. "I'm sorry… I will take care of it."

The old lady's lips curved into a small smile, her eyes misting. Behind them, the city's gates stood wide open, the glowing orbs floating above as if guiding him forward — toward the beginning of a life he didn't yet know was waiting.

Baku City – Visual & Atmosphere

Baku sat upon a cliff that curved like a crescent moon, its edge touching the dark blue ocean. At the cliff's base, glowing fish swam in slow circles, as if guarding the city's watery boundary.

High above, on the city's crown, an open-air restaurant flickered with warm firelight. The scent of grilled seafood drifted into the sea breeze. Lanterns swayed gently, their glow spilling over wooden tables, and laughter and music carried faintly across the water. From the ship, the whole scene looked like a painting that had learned to breathe.

As the ship approached, an enormous stone gate rose from the water — carved with the image of a man locked in battle with a winged beast. The gate's shadow loomed over the passengers, the stone worn smooth by centuries of salt and wind.

People leaned over the railings, pointing and murmuring to one another."What is that?" someone asked."It's from one of Baku's oldest tales," another replied."Oh… that's beautiful."

Auren, sitting in the wheelchair Ravi gently pushed, gazed at the sight in silence. His heart beat a little quicker. He didn't know why, but something in him whispered — this is where everything changes.

The giant gates stood before them like a wall built by the gods themselves. Carved into their surface were patterns of beasts, warriors, and rivers that seemed to move when the sunlight touched them. As the ship drew closer, the creak of the wood and the sound of waves against the hull grew softer, almost as if the world itself was holding its breath. Then, with a slow, thunderous groan, the gates began to open.

Auren felt the tremor through the deck under his feet. He didn't even realize he had stopped breathing until the gap widened and the light spilled in. What lay beyond… wasn't water. It was a lake, but unlike any water he had ever seen. It glowed faintly, the surface shimmering like melted stars. The ship glided forward, and the passengers leaned over the railings.

Below them, shapes moved — long, elegant, and alive with light. Glowing sharks, their scales like liquid silver, swam in slow circles. Giant snakes, their bodies lined with patterns of gold and blue, cut through the water with a grace that made even the children watching fall silent. Schools of tiny, firefly-like fish drifted past in a cloud, and each time they moved together, they left a streak of glitter in their wake.

No one spoke. Eyes widened. Hearts raced. The air itself seemed different here — cleaner, sharper, like the first breath after rain.

And then they saw it.

Far ahead, rising from the heart of the lake, was a mountain. At its peak sat a palace unlike anything human hands could dream of building. Its walls were made of stone so smooth it caught the sunlight and threw it back in warm golden shades. Around it, hundreds of colorful birds circled in perfect patterns. Their wings caught the light as they moved, scattering flecks of color into the air like paint on an invisible canvas. They didn't just fly — they patrolled, their eyes sharp, their movements purposeful, as if guarding something sacred.

Every now and then, one of them would cry out — a deep, melodic call that echoed off the mountain walls. It wasn't just sound. It was music.

As the ship drew nearer, the details of the mountain revealed themselves. It wasn't covered in one kind of forest or plain. It was layered, like the steps of some divine garden. Each zone was alive with a different world of color — a slope of glowing pink grass, then another of green so deep it almost looked black, then red, then soft blue that shimmered as if it had a life of its own.

On those grasses grew trees with silver bark and leaves that shone like glass. Coral-like formations rose among flowers bigger than a man's head, their petals slow-dancing in the wind. The air carried the faint scent of something sweet, mixed with the smoky perfume of burning wood.

And then Auren noticed the carvings. All along the palace terraces and balconies, wooden beams were shaped into spirals, animals, and faces — each detail so fine that it seemed impossible they had been touched by human hands. Torches burned with a steady orange glow, and the scent drifted down to the ship in waves.

The people around him whispered."What is this place?""Is this even real?""It's heaven…" someone said, and nobody dared to disagree.

Auren didn't speak. He couldn't. His chest felt too tight. Somewhere deep inside, a small voice told him that this was it. The place he had been searching for without knowing it. The place where everything would change.

He closed his eyes for a heartbeat, listening to the rhythm of the lake water against the ship. When he opened them, the palace seemed even closer, its gates at the base of the mountain waiting like open arms.

For the first time in years, he felt something dangerous.Hope.

The ship slowed, finally stopping at the Crescent Moon Port. Its curved stone pier gleamed faintly under the golden light, the air filled with the scent of salt and distant cooking fires. One by one, passengers stepped onto the walkway, each footfall tapping softly against the polished stone. The sound carried, blending with the gentle splash of waves against the port's edge.

They moved toward the grand transit point—a wide, open area bustling with life. People here wore an odd mix of fashion, blending old and new as if time itself had stitched their styles together. Some men dressed in semi-samurai attire, layered robes flowing over boots and modern belts. Others wore half-modern jackets over traditional wraps, creating a strange but natural harmony. The women were even more striking, many draped in shimmering fabrics that caught the light like water, with sheer netting over their legs, giving them a delicate yet confident grace.

The port was alive with chatter, colors, and smells—vendors calling out over sizzling seafood grills, children chasing glowing fish-shaped lanterns, and the faint sound of a stringed instrument somewhere in the background. Everything felt new, yet timeless, as if this place had existed beyond the reach of ordinary years.

Soon, another vessel emerged on the horizon—a stout trade ship, its crimson-and-gold hull worn by countless journeys. It glided into Crescent Moon Port with steady grace, ropes creaking as it settled beside the dock.

Inside a modest cabin, lit by a single swaying lantern, two men sat facing each other. One was broad-shouldered, robed in dark indigo, quietly sipping tea while gazing out at the harbor. The other, lean and sharp-eyed, drummed his fingers on the table, a faint smile tugging at his lips. Between them lay scrolls, a pair of coin pouches, and a small carved box whose symbols had been smoothed by time.

They spoke little, but the air between them was heavy with silent calculation. Deals were not just coming—they were already in motion.

A Voice - Welcome to Baku City.

Auren Ryuki, time is ticking. tik tik tik...vaiven has come..