The *Stormbreaker* sliced through the churning waves, its sails filled by a wind that seemed to whisper dark promises. The sea around them had grown restless, mirroring the anxiety that had settled over the crew. The storm was coming—it was undeniable now. Dark clouds twisted and churned on the horizon, and every gust of wind carried the scent of salt and something darker, more ancient.
Elara stood at the helm, her hands steady on the wheel, her mind focused on the vision she had seen. The lighthouse. A beacon, standing on the edge of the world, where the Abyss itself seemed to reach up from the depths. She didn't know what they would find there, but she knew it was their only chance. Whatever power the Abyss had given her, whatever it had taken in return—it all led to that place.
