The silence following the battle was thick, a heavy fog of tension that clung to the air, suffocating the sense of relief that should have come after such a hard-fought victory. The ruins of the once-great sanctuary stood in stark contrast to the calm that followed the clash. Shattered stone, broken wards, and the lingering remnants of dark energy surrounded them. Elara felt the weight of the past few hours settle into her bones, but there was no time to rest. The heart—though stabilized—was still fragile, and the shadow that had emerged was only one aspect of a much darker reality.
Morgana, her face pale but resolute, surveyed the aftermath, her hands trembling slightly as she lowered them from their defensive posture. Her eyes flicked to Elara, the unspoken weight of their shared responsibility passing between them.
