Lucian entered the temple, his daggers drawn and ready. The air was thick with dark energy, and every step he took seemed to echo through the silence. At the center of the temple stood a pedestal, and on it was a glowing crystal, pulsating with an unnatural power.
As Lucian approached the pedestal, he felt a presence behind him—a cold, malevolent force. He spun around, his heart racing.
Standing in the shadows was a figure cloaked in darkness, its eyes glowing with an unholy light.
"You've come far, Lucian," the figure said, its voice echoing in the empty temple. "But this is where your journey ends."
Lucian's heart sank. He knew who this was. The source of the curse. The one who had destroyed Wimbledon.
And now, he was face to face with the enemy.