Arthur and I stood before a towering structure, sleek and imposing, the very image of ambition made tangible. The building rose at least thirty stories high, its obsidian-like exterior reflecting the city lights in mesmerizing patterns. Above us, emblazoned on the facade, was the unmistakable symbol of a black serpent devouring its own tail—a sigil as ancient as time itself.
Ouroboros.
A symbol of infinity. Of eternal cycles.
And of unrelenting ambition.
The emblem pulsed with a subtle blue glow, visible even against the night sky of Avalon. Mana-infused, no doubt—a little touch of magic to complement the technological marvel of the structure itself. Around us, the business district hummed with the late-night activity typical of a city that never truly slept.
"Fitting," I mused, my eyes tracing the sleek metallic curves of the insignia. The emblem seemed alive somehow, the eternal snake forever consuming itself, forever renewing.
