The horizon stretched endlessly as Sia and Anthony approached the temple, the air thick with tension and mystery. The shimmering glow of the Stone pulsed with a rhythm that seemed to mirror Sia's heartbeat, binding her to the ancient force she carried.
The rocky path wound upward, each step carrying them closer to the imposing gates of the sacred temple. The wind howled around them, carrying faint whispers—voices from another time, another world.
Anthony broke the silence, his voice steady but edged with concern. "It feels like the temple is alive, watching us."
Sia nodded, gripping the Stone tightly. "The closer we get, the more I can feel it. It's as if it's waiting for something… or someone."
As they neared the gates, the ground trembled, and a deep, resonant voice filled the air.
"Turn back."
Sia froze, her breath catching. "Who… who's there?"
The voice did not answer. Instead, ghostly figures began to materialize in the mist, their translucent forms glowing faintly. They were warriors—guardians of the Stone from a time long past, their eyes hollow yet filled with purpose.
Anthony drew his blade, stepping in front of Sia. "We don't want to fight. Let us pass."
The figures surged forward, their ethereal weapons shimmering with an eerie light.