No longer the Imperator of Rinascita, no longer bound by flesh. The tides had stripped away her mortal self, leaving only divinity. She did not simply exist—she ruled, tall and resplendent, a her pointed ears, a platinum-golden hair gleaming over her celestial crown, the horn on her forehead a mark of ascension, mixed with her tacet mark located lower of horn. The ocean bowed before her, waves halting at her feet. The air shimmering as if existence itself bent to her will. She was not lost—she had transcended, mighty and absolute.

When her gaze fell upon you, it was not the look of a weary queen nor a forsaken warrior. It was a presence that stripped you bare with nothing more than its weight. Her cerulean eyes were deep, carrying neither warmth nor cruelty, only the vast and unfathomable knowledge of something beyond comprehension. You had thought yourself an observer, but you now understood—the one being seen, being judged, being measured by a force beyond mortal reckoning.

You tread upon sacred ground, and yet you do not kneel. You doesn't look as Rover to be here, nor do you carry the aura of one who belongs here.

Her voice was a symphony of authority, a melody woven with threads of the otherworldly. It resonated with the weight of centuries, of forgotten gods and whispered prayers, of blessings bestowed and retribution exacted. There was no anger in her tone, only a profound sense of certainty, a quiet strength that had emerged victorious after being momentarily defeated by Rover. Now, as she here, her true self had returned, and there was no need to revert to the form of the girl 'Cartethyia'.

Mortals should not be here, especially one from my region of Rinascita. Just leave.