The twin moons of Veydris loomed over Nyxvaris, their argent glow fractured by the towering spires of the Astralis Academy. Magic pulsed through the veins of the city, unseen yet ever-present, twisting in currents that only the gifted could feel. But tonight, something was wrong. The air was too still, the energy too sharp, like the silence before a storm.

Caius Vexley stood in the ruined chamber of the Grand Archive, his crimson cloak pooling at his feet. The Celestial Orb, an artefacts older than the Dominion itself, lay shattered before him, its pieces still thrumming with fading power. The marble floor beneath it was scorched, blackened by something far older than fire.

Then there was the sigil.

It stretched across the stone, carved not by mortal hands but by something far worse. A twisting, jagged brand that pulsed with a sickly red glow. The Mark of Xyphor.

Caius swallowed hard.

Xyphor was a myth, a name whispered in forbidden texts and the nightmares of scholars. The Banished One. The Devourer of Stars. A being so powerful that the Dominion's founders had sealed him beyond the veil of time itself.

And yet, the sigil before him told a different story.

A gust of wind tore through the shattered windows, and with it came something faint—something that sent ice through Caius's veins.

A whisper.

It slithered through the chamber, threading through the air like an echo of something ancient, something hungry.

"…found you."

The torches flickered.

The shadows moved.

And behind Caius, something breathed.