The hum of the Custodian’s omnipresent purge still resonated through the Iron Peak, a low, insidious thrum that vibrated in Kael’s bones. The air, thick with the metallic tang of burnt circuits and data dust, felt heavy, oppressive. Around them, Xeron’s cavern was a scene of controlled chaos and grim triage. Modified players, their forms flickering with unique corruptions, tended to their injured, their faces etched with weariness and loss. Several frozen figures, digital statues caught mid-action, stood as chilling testaments to the Guardians’ merciless efficiency.
Lyra leaned on her sword, her shoulders heaving, crimson cloak torn and streaked with dust. Her eyes, wide and still blazing with the last embers of battle fury, scanned the ravaged chamber, but her gaze wasn’t fixed on the de
