The sun rose, casting long shadows over the Hollowheart Enclave. Artemis and her allies gathered in the main hall, its walls alive with pulsating vines and soft golden light.
Nova stood apart, her gaze cold and unreadable.
"We can't wait any longer," Nova declared, her voice sharp. "The Hunters will come for us soon. We must strike first—take control of the Rift and its power."
Artemis shook her head. "We don't become what we hate. We fight to save, not conquer."
The room erupted in murmurs, divided lines forming like cracks in stone.
Elara stepped forward. "We need a plan that doesn't destroy us from within."
Lyra added, "Recon. We gather intel on the Hunters. Find their weaknesses."
Nova's eyes burned. "Recon won't save us when they're at our gates."
Artemis raised her hand, calling for silence.
"We need to unite," she said firmly. "Our strength is in the bond—not just the power we wield, but in each other. If we fracture now, we lose everything."
The Beacon on her wrist pulsed, syncing with the hearts around her.
A few nods came from the group.
But Nova's glare didn't waver.
"This isn't over," she hissed, retreating to the shadows.
Artemis watched her go, a cold knot tightening in her chest.
The battle was no longer just against monsters outside—it was brewing within.
The fate of their world hinged not only on survival but on trust.
And trust was the most fragile thing of all.
The murmurs died down, but the unease lingered like a thick fog. Artemis stood at the center, feeling the weight of every gaze pressed against her.
Elara crossed her arms. "Nova's right about one thing—the Hunters won't wait for us to be ready. We have to be vigilant."
Lyra paced, restless. "If we're divided, they'll pick us apart. We need scouts, spies—any edge we can get."
Artemis looked at the faces around her—the hardened survivors, the young bonded, those still learning to control their powers. All of them relying on her to hold the fragile peace.
She clenched her fists.
"I'll lead the first recon mission," Artemis declared. "Elara, Lyra—you're with me. We'll move out at dawn."
A ripple of approval met her words.
From the shadows, a cold voice cut through the gathering.
"I'll join as well."
Nova stepped forward, her presence as commanding as ever, eyes blazing with conviction.
The room tensed.
Artemis met her stare, unflinching.
"No," Artemis said firmly. "Not now. Not until we've rebuilt some trust."
Nova's jaw tightened, but she stepped back, vanishing again into the enclave's dark corners.
The group dispersed, some whispering hopes, others fears.
Artemis remained still, her mind racing.
The Rift's power was dangerous—capable of destroying or healing.
If they fractured now, everything would be lost.
She glanced down at the Beacon glowing softly on her wrist.
It pulsed like a heartbeat, a reminder that even in darkness, there was a spark.
A spark worth fighting for.