The ice beneath the Guardians began to crackle and shift, revealing a faint, eerie glow coming from deep below the surface. The fallen frost wyrm lay still, its immense form casting long shadows over the frozen expanse. Elara stepped cautiously toward the center of the lake, where the cracks had begun to spread, each step tentative yet resolute.
"We need to get down there before the lake seals itself again," she said, her voice carrying the weight of urgency.
Doran grunted as he joined her, his warhammer resting on his shoulder. "If there's more of those beasts down there, I'm not sure we'll be as lucky next time."
Henry, always quick to act, crouched by the widening cracks in the ice, his sharp eyes narrowing as he inspected the strange glow below. "It's not just magic... it's something ancient. Powerful. I can feel it."
