Liora awoke to silence.
The ruins were gone.
In their place stretched a vast cavern lit by rivers of molten gold flowing through the rock like veins. The air shimmered with heat, yet she felt no pain—only a strange, pulsing warmth, as if something inside her had begun to stir.
"You should not have come."
The voice was clearer now. Older. Tired.
Liora pushed herself up, her heart racing. "Show yourself!"
A shadow moved across the molten river.
Slowly, it rose.
Not a creature. Not entirely. It was a shape made of flame and memory, its edges shifting like smoke caught in a storm.
"I have waited," it said, "for someone who could hear me."
Liora's breath caught. "What is this place?"
"A prison," the being replied. "And a key."
She frowned. "That makes no sense."
"It will."
The cavern trembled.
Far above, something roared—a sound that carried through stone and soul alike.
The being flickered.
"They have felt it," it said. "The seal is broken."
"Who?" Liora asked.
The flames dimmed.
"Those who burned the sky."
Liora's pulse quickened. The legends. The Skyfall War. The end of the old world.
"They're still alive?"
The being looked at her—or at least, she felt it do so.
"Not alive," it said softly.
"Worse."
To be continued...