Thunder rolled in the distance as storm clouds gathered like vultures above the Capital Tombs. Valerian stood motionless before the shattered monolith, its runes glowing faintly beneath layers of blood and ash. The stench of death choked the air—this was no ordinary ruin anymore. It was awakening.
Behind him, Kael grunted, his greatsword slung over his shoulder and his expression grim. "That wasn't the last Wraith, was it?"
"No," Valerian murmured, eyes narrowing. "That was only its shadow."
Selene and Seraphina exchanged glances, both their hands still crackling with residual mana. The battle had drained them more than they cared to admit, and the weight of what they'd just witnessed hung heavy in the air. Lira stood near the edge of the platform, her eyes locked on the swirling pit that had opened after the battle. It looked bottomless, but something pulsed down there. A heartbeat that wasn't theirs—ancient, rhythmic, and utterly alien.
