Erend and Eccar emerged from the other dimension, stepping through the black door and into the familiar desolation of Sulaeran Dragnar.
This was the world of the Dragonborn — their world. Yet, as their boots sank into the crunching black sand, they were met with an unsettling stillness and emptiness.
The horizon stretched endlessly, shrouded in gloom, with only faint traces of Magical auroras cutting through the sky.
"This is supposed to be home," Eccar murmured, his gaze scanning the barren landscape. "But all I see is... emptiness."
Erend sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping. "What now? I feel... hollow. Even after oir victory."
Eccar nodded, his expression clouded. "Maybe we should just go back. We've already spent too much time here."
Erend hesitated. "Yeah, maybe—"
"No," a familiar voice interrupted, resonating in the air around them.
Both turned sharply, recognizing the voice instantly.
