The hum of dark energy resonating from the Vault grew louder as Morgana worked feverishly to dismantle the Void's wards. Her hands moved in intricate patterns, weaving through the layers of corruption that clung to the ancient seals. Sweat beaded on her brow, her face tight with concentration. Every second felt like an eternity as the oppressive aura surrounding the Vault intensified.
"Elara, something's happening," Arian said, his voice low and tense. He kept his eyes trained on the heavy stone door of the Vault, which was now vibrating slightly. Dark cracks of energy spiderwebbed across its surface, like veins pulsing with sinister life. "The seal is weakening."
Elara gripped her sword tighter, her own magic coursing through her as she readied herself. She could feel it too—a deep, malevolent presence stirring within the Vault. It was ancient, far older than any threat they had faced, and it was waking up.
