The shadow loomed before them, its form twisting and flickering like a living nightmare. Kael's sword pulsed with light, but the darkness before him swallowed it whole. The temperature in the sanctum plummeted, and Kael could feel the presence of the shadow pressing against his mind, threatening to break his resolve. It was as if the very air had become thick with despair, the weight of eternity pushing against them.
Morgana raised her staff high, the runes etched into the wood glowing brighter, but the figure before them only laughed—low and haunting.
**"Foolish mortals,"** it said, its voice like the grinding of stone, the words slithering in and out of the air. **"You believe you can banish me with your petty light? The void was merely a tool, a stepping stone. I am the true source, the heart of the veil itself."**
