Dawn broke over the corruption zone with unnatural colors—a violet and crimson sunrise that painted the assembled army in shades of dried blood. The air vibrated with tension as thousands of warriors stood in formation, their breath creating clouds of steam in the chill morning air. Many had been unable to sleep, haunted by the grotesque landscape that awaited them.
Shia stood at the vanguard, her silver armor now embellished with runes of containment—hastily inscribed protection against the corruption they were about to face. The dark circles under her eyes betrayed her sleepless night, not from fear of battle, but from the weight of what she had witnessed—and what she now had to do.
"He's still in there," she whispered to herself. "But for how long?"
