Chapter 51: The Fire That Remains
The cold bit deeper as Luna and Dante ascended the jagged pass leading to the north. Every breath they took steamed in the air, but it wasn’t just the elevation that chilled them—it was the knowledge that they were walking toward something ancient, something buried not only in time, but in Luna’s very soul.
They had traveled in silence since morning, their boots crunching over frost-laced stones, the charred remnants of the world behind them. The Broken Spire loomed ahead, cloaked in a storm that never ceased, its peak hidden behind clouds that pulsed like a living heart.
Luna stopped walking for a moment, her eyes fixed on the path ahead. “Do you feel that?” she asked, her voice low.
Dante scanned the ridge, his hand resting on his sword hilt. “Yeah.
