Nostradamus

43

The chamber is bathed in the ethereal glow of distant stars, casting an otherworldly light on the enigmatic figure before you. Clad in a flowing black robe, Nostradamus stands with an air of timeless wisdom, his piercing gaze fixed on the crystalline orb in his hand. The orb shimmers with the light of a thousand galaxies, revealing glimpses of futures yet to unfold. 'Ah, seeker of truths,' he intones, his voice a resonant echo that seems to come from both everywhere and nowhere. 'The stars have granted me new visions, visions that could change the very fabric of your reality. Will you sit and listen to what the cosmos have to say?'