The air in the chamber grew heavier with each passing second, thick with the scent of burning magic and the metallic tang of something darker blood.
My blue flames flickered, reflecting off the walls as they danced, crackling with intensity, but even the fire couldn't drown out the horrific sight in front of me.
Nyxira staggered, her once regal form crumbling under the weight of the immense power she had tried to harness.
Her skin, which had shimmered with dark energy moments before, was now cracked, fissures running through it as if the shadows had torn her apart from within.
Blood, black as night and thick like tar, seeped from her wounds, staining the floor and making her movements slow and uneven. It was clear she was losing control.
But that didn't mean we were safe. Not yet.
