The battlefield stretched endlessly before Kara, a grim and merciless expanse of bodies, broken weapons, and rivers of blood soaking the earth beneath her feet.
The sky above was a strange, unnatural shade, caught between twilight and the abyss, where swirling clouds of gold and black clashed like opposing forces at war. The air smelled of death and burned magic, a scent so thick it clung to her lungs with every breath.
She stood frozen at the edge of the c*****e, her heart pounding against her ribs, her mind struggling to comprehend what she was seeing.
This was not an illusion, not some vague dream conjured from fear or exhaustion. It was a memory—a real one—and yet, it did not belong to her. It was ancient, heavy with a sense of something inevitable, something irreversible.
At the
