The bronze coin blazed with a desperate, flickering light.
Clek stood at the edge of the encampment, his eyes fixed on the horizon. The army of light had grown—hundreds of survivors from across the scattered cities, their faces filled with hope, their hands gripping weapons that glowed with a faint, ethereal light. They had come together, united by a common purpose. They had come to fight.
But the darkness was coming too. He could feel it in the ground beneath his feet, in the air around him, in the whispers that had been growing louder in his mind for days. The corruption was spreading, faster than before. The heart was fighting, but it was losing.
Aria's presence flickered in his mind, soft and concerned. "Clek. You've been standing here for hours. What's wrong?"
"The corruption," he
