The morning sun had fully risen, casting long rays of gold across the village as the weary travelers and villagers alike began to stir. The battle was over, but the work of rebuilding had only just begun. Bob stood near the edge of the village, looking out at the surrounding wilderness—the Darklands now a shadow of its former malevolent self. The creatures that had once thrived in its depths had been vanquished, but the forest still loomed ominously on the horizon. The land would heal, but it would take time. And so would the people.
"Ready for the hard part?" Freya's voice broke through his thoughts, and Bob turned to find her standing behind him, her expression unreadable but determined. She had seen more than her fair share of battles, but this felt different. This victory was not a momentary triumph—it was the beginning of something much larger. The beginning of a new world, perhaps.
Bob nodded slowly. "I'm ready. We have no choice, do we?"
