The Guardians lingered in the eerie silence left behind after the tear's collapse. The battlefield, once filled with chaotic energy and the sounds of magic, was now unnervingly quiet. Elara stood at the edge of the tear's former location, staring into the blackened ground where reality had nearly unraveled. She could still feel the remnants of the darkness they had fought, like invisible tendrils curling through the air.
"We should leave this place," Henry said, his voice cutting through the silence. His eyes were sharp, scanning the surroundings for any sign of the retreating Weavers. "We don't know if they'll regroup or if something worse is coming."
