Duchess Blackthorn took in the scene before her, her dark eyes sweeping over the wreckage that had once been the majestic fortress of Aetherion. The air was thick with the remnants of shattered magic and the acrid stench of blood. The mighty underwater fortress now stood on the brink of collapse, its defenses battered and broken. Arcane symbols, once glowing bright and pure, now flickered erratically, casting eerie shadows across the stone walls. The sounds of battle echoed from distant corridors—screams, shouts, and the dull roar of magic clashing against magic.
Aetherion, once a symbol of power and impenetrable defense, had been reduced to chaos.
