In this part of the world, silence carried a weight that felt more empty than serene.
Sylen moved cautiously through the ash-covered ruins, a man burdened with knowledge yet still seeking answers. Above him, the sun hid behind dense grey clouds, painting the ground in muted shades of burnt sienna. This place, once a fortress, now lay abandoned, its history whispered in forgotten chants and shattered glyphs.
Sylen knelt beside a cracked stone altar, gently sweeping away the soot with his gloved hand. Beneath the ash, ancient symbols glimmered faintly, runes foreign to this era. "Third site this week," he muttered with a grim edge. "It's getting colder each time."
The quiet crunch of a boot on stone signalled a presence behind him. Crenna, a scout with pale eyes and a trusted ally of Zaire, approached with her hood down. She handed him a small metal case, her expression unreadable. "You're not going to like this," she warned.
Sylen opened it slowly. Inside was a shard of obsidian, fractured at the edges, pulsing faintly with a strange, red glow.
He inhaled sharply. "They've reached the Veil-fracture level."
"It's more than that," Crenna corrected."These weren't left behind. These were planted."
Sylen stood up slowly, clenching the shard in his fist. "Someone's trying to weaken the boundary from this side."
Crenna nodded grimly. "It's not just The Order anymore, Sylen. Something older is moving, and we need to be more careful."
* * *
Far away, deep within the stonework of the chapel, Father Delran stood in front of the great bell, a relic from the old world. His hands rested on its cold surface, eyes closed, lips barely moving in a prayer too ancient to be written.
Then, he sensed it, a shift in the world's fabric. The Veil, silent for so long, pulsed like a wound struggling to close. The chapel floor vibrated gently, a subtle hum like a distant string being plucked.
Delran turned to Dr Thorne, who stood quietly behind him, arms crossed. "It's begun," he said softly. "She's going to wake up soon."
Thorne remained steady. "And so are the ones who want her broken before she becomes whole."
Delran looked toward the stained-glass window above, where soft rays of light now flickered irregularly across the floor. "We need to warn them. The Veil won't stay quiet for much longer."
Thorne nodded once. "I'll send a word to Zaire and Sylen as soon as possible."
But Delran wasn't looking at her anymore. He was staring past the glass, into something only he could feel. And what he felt… was hunger.
* * *