The winds were picking up again, this time carrying with them the promise of something more ominous. As Sena and her group moved further into the desert, the air grew heavy, thick with the weight of impending conflict. The days of silence were over; the world was waking up to the reality of their rebellion.
They had traveled far since retrieving the first Moonmark fragment. Caelum had led them to safehouses, hidden pockets of resistance where the Temple's reach had not yet fully extended. But every day, every hour, they moved closer to the Temple's wrath.
The group's numbers had grown. Slowly, cautiously, they had gathered others—outcasts, rebels, and those who had long been silenced by the Temple's iron grip. These were not soldiers. They were people who had lost everything, people who
