The warmth of the sun, faint and fragile, bathed the Wastes in a golden light that felt foreign to the barren land. The oppressive atmosphere had lifted, and for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, Emily could breathe freely. The Heart of the Abyss was still, its dark energy no longer pulsing with malevolent intent. But as she stood at the edge of the chasm, looking down into the now-quiet void, Emily couldn't shake the feeling that this peace was temporary—a lull in the storm that was yet to come.
Alaric and Mira stood beside her, equally drained from the ordeal, though Mira's sharp eyes never stopped scanning the horizon, her instincts still on high alert.
"It feels... different," Alaric said, breaking the silence. He rubbed the back of his neck, still adjusting to the sudden absence of the tension that had weighed on them for days. "But something's not right, is it?"
