The silence was deafening. The glowing light from the crystal, which had briefly overwhelmed the darkness, now began to wane. The oppressive atmosphere of the sanctuary had not lifted, but there was a subtle shift in the air, as though the very fabric of reality had been stretched and torn. Elara stood at the center, her hand still resting against the relic, which now pulsed with a steady rhythm, as though breathing in time with her own heartbeat.
For a moment, nothing moved. The figure cloaked in shadow, once an ominous presence, was frozen in place, its red eyes flickering like dying embers. The air was thick with anticipation, the ground beneath their feet trembling ever so slightly, as though the world itself was holding its breath.
But then, the stillness was broken by a low, rumbling sound—like the growl of something ancient awakening.
