A dense twilight hung over the ruined city as Elara and Corvin emerged from the crumbling Temple of Twilight. The once-hallowed sanctum now lay behind them, its spectral echoes still resonating in the quiet recesses of their minds. Outside, the wind carried whispers of distant battle cries and ancient lamentations—a reminder that the struggle between light and darkness was far from over.
Elara paused at the threshold of Astralis, her gaze sweeping over the broken streets and toppled columns that bore silent witness to the relentless passage of time. The city, once a vibrant nexus of celestial lore and mortal ambition, now lay in a mournful state, its faded murals and shattered statues testifying to the hubris of its former glory. Even as her heart swelled with the memory of the ritual's triumph, a cold unease crept along her spine. The darkness, though momentarily repelled, was patient, and its tendrils still lay hidden in the shadows.
