The creature towered above them, its form a swirling amalgamation of darkness and light, the runic symbols etched across its body pulsating in sync with the energy of the Rift. Its voice low, guttural, and brimming with malice sent shivers down Eryndor’s spine.
“You dare stand against the inevitable? You are but fragments of a fading world.”
Eryndor tightened her grip on her dagger, the runes on her skin burning brighter, flooding her veins with raw power. The Rift amplified everything within her—strength, fear, and the growing sense that this battle would demand more than she could give.
Kaelen drew his twin blades, his smirk sharper than ever. “Fragments, huh? Let’s see how your ‘inevitable’ feels about cold steel.” He lunged, his movements a blur as he sliced through the mist-like ap
