The main gate to the sacred territory of the Fenrir Valley stood tall like an impenetrable stone giant. Its walls loomed high, adorned with ancient tribal carvings that now seemed to fade under the light of military radar scanners rotating mechanically atop every watchtower. The air there felt different—much colder and thick with a sharp, heavy scent of metal. Zeven stopped directly in front of the main palace gate, his bare feet meeting the sandy ground with a sound barely audible. His body, now covered in battle scars and radiating dark energy, made the guards on the towers hold their breath.
"Open the gate," Zeven said, his voice deep, echoing through the silence of the border zone.
A mechanical thud sounded from behind the massive wall, followed by the heavy hiss of hydraulic pressur
