As the convoy navigated the treacherous path through the Ayzion Range, each mile felt heavier than the last.
The air grew thinner, sharp against their lungs, while stones scraped beneath tires, engines straining to haul steel and weary bodies through narrow cliffs.
Shadows stretched ominously across jagged peaks,a stark reminder that daylight in these mountains was fleeting and unreliable.
Behind them lay a grim trail marked by death. Seven ambushes,each one more brutal than its predecessor and still, the mountain whispered of more horrors to come.
Arthur leaned forward in his truck, eyes locked on the winding road ahead. Dried blood smeared his face; crimson stains stiffened his clothes.
The Shadow Lord Regalia hummed softly with each movement, reinforcing torn muscles and repairing broken fibers.but it couldn't erase the fatigue weighing him down.
His body moved on autopilot while his mind struggled under a heavy fog.
