The Watchwards' Tower rose from the scorched valley like a twisted monument to transformation. Built upon the exact spot where the ritual had torn reality asunder, its spiraling architecture defied conventional understanding. Black stone veined with pulsing arcane energy wound upward in impossible geometric patterns, reflecting the altered nature of its creators.
Reed stood atop the highest platform, gazing across the landscape that had once been the border between three warring kingdoms. Now it served as the center of a new domain—one born from necessity rather than conquest.
"They are ready for you," Shia said, appearing beside him with that unnatural silence that still unnerved even those closest to them. Her transformed features caught the dying light, the embedded artifacts beneath her skin illuminating her veins with cold fire.
