The Chosen Day...
From the heavens above, thousands of feet high, the entire Continent of Almace appeared as if it were a sacred altar. Five colossal pillars, each pulsating with radiant runic lights, stood at the edges of the land, arranged perfectly to form the shape of a pentagram. The runes flickered in rhythmic patterns, their energies weaving through the air like golden threads of a celestial tapestry.
At the very center of this star, a smaller, but no less magnificent, pillar stood—a platform carved from obsidian and adorned with intricate, glowing carvings of ancient sigils. The platform appeared to breathe, exuding an aura of raw, unfathomable power. This was the nexus, the heart of the grand ritual that would forever alter the fate of the world.
