As Caelum continued along the path, the air grew colder. The deeper he traveled, the more oppressive the atmosphere became. The forest seemed to close in around him, the trees looming like silent watchers.
Suddenly, the path split into two, and Caelum stood at a crossroads. On the left was a dark, foreboding tunnel that seemed to suck the very light out of the air. On the right, a bright, sunlit path wound through an idyllic meadow, flowers blooming along its sides.
A voice came to him, soft but insistent: "Choose the path of light, and you will find peace. Choose the path of darkness, and you will become stronger."
The choice was clear, wasn't it? The path of light promised peace, freedom from fear. The path of darkness, on the other hand, promised power. And yet, as Caelum stared at both paths, he felt something stir deep within him—a memory of the power he had wielded when he first found the cursed sword, the allure of its dark promise.
He shook his head. No. He had already walked the path of darkness once. He would not be swayed again.
With resolve, Caelum turned to the sunlit path, taking his first step toward the light.
But as soon as he did, the world around him began to shift. The bright meadow faded into a twisted, nightmarish version of itself. The flowers withered, their petals falling like ash. The sky turned an unnatural shade of red.
The voice returned, mocking him. "You cannot escape the darkness. It is within you."
Caelum clenched his fists, the cursed sword's presence stirring inside him. But he didn't stop walking. Each step was a defiance against the fear that threatened to consume him.