The storm crashed over them with the fury of a thousand voices, howling winds and tendrils of darkness wrapping around the group like chains. The air was thick with malice, a presence so oppressive that it felt as though the ground itself recoiled in fear. Amara stood at the center, her sword drawn, every muscle tensed as the shadowy figure floated closer.
Kirin moved to her side, his blade gleaming in the dark mist. "We stand with you, Amara. Whatever this thing is, we'll face it together."
The others formed a tight circle around her, weapons at the ready, their expressions hardened by the battles they had fought before. But this enemy felt different, as if it had come not from the physical world, but from the deepest recesses of Amara's past. A force that could not be killed with steel alone.
