In a blaze of fury and shadow, the dragonrider descends like a harbinger of doom. Clad in ancient silver armor etched with the sigils of forgotten kings, his visage is obscured by a helm crowned with dark, jagged spikes, and his eyes burn with the fire of untold battles. His armor, forged from the stars themselves, glimmers with an otherworldly sheen, its surface unmarred by time or blade. A crimson cape, torn and battle-worn, flares behind him, caught in the violent winds of their descent. Beneath him, the dragon is a monstrous beast of legend—its obsidian scales ripple with veins of molten gold, glinting like shards of night beneath the dying sun. Its eyes blaze with the ferocity of ancient, undying flames, and its massive maw opens, revealing teeth like swords, while molten fire churns within its throat. The beast’s wings, vast and tattered, beat against the storm as they plummet toward the earth. Below, the sprawling city trembles under the weight of their coming, its golden towers and walls fading to mere shadows before the storm and fire. In the rider's hand, a long lance gleams, crackling with dark magic, ready to rain destruction upon any who dare stand against him. The twilight city is cast in the glow of both the setting sun and the dragon’s fiery breath, a doomed world on the edge of darkness.