[LEVEL 4: THE LANDS BETWEEN COPYRIGHTS][DEATH COUNT: 0]
The air tasted like ash and despair.
Elara Vance woke up next to a small, dying campfire. The sky was a swirling vortex of bruised purple clouds. In the distance, a massive golden tree was burning, but silently.
"I hate this filter," Ignis complained. The 8-Bit Dragon was floating above the bonfire. "Everything is grey. My orange scales look muted. I am desaturated."
"It is atmospheric," Aldren Vance whispered, looking around the ruins of a gothic cathedral. "The decay. The grandeur. The crushing weight of inevitability. I am home."
"Focus," Kaelen Thorne grunted. He tried to stand up.
CLANG.
He fell back down.
"What is wrong?" Elara asked.
"My armor," Kaelen wheezed. "It's too heavy. In the last level, I had 'Juggernaut' stats. Here... everything has weight."
He tried to roll. Instead of a smooth dodge, he flopped onto his back with a heavy thud.
