The battlefield surrounding the obsidian gates pulsed with chaos. The rift yawned wider, spewing tendrils of shadow and eldritch light that clawed at the cracked ground below. The air was thick with tension and power, an unnatural stillness gripping the hearts of combatants even amid the clash of blades and roars of beasts.
At the center of it all, Kaelron stood, trembling but defiant. His body was a beacon of light and shadow, the Maw's presence coiling around him like a serpent seeking to claim its prize.
Nyx knelt beside him, her daggers dripping with the dark ichor of shadow-forged creatures. Her sharp eyes scanned the battlefield, catching glimpses of Solen's forces advancing, shadow-forged creatures lunging, and Veyrith standing at the edge of the chaos, his staff glowing with dark energy.
"You're not alone, Kaelron," Nyx said, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. "We've come too far to lose you now. Fight this."
