Golden ethereal mists circle the Phantom, as he stands, shadowy, before you. A stream of golden vapor flows out from his sleeve and spirals up his arm. A cloud of golden smoke whisps around his waist, then floats around his head. All you can see of Phantom himself is his cloak. You look at his face, under the hood, but the longer you look at it, the more blury it gets... A whisp of golden steam spirals through the air away from him, almost as if governed by some intelligence far beyond the understanding of science today.
He is sleeping.


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