The world was unraveling.The battlefield trembled beneath Evans’s feet as he sprinted forward, Amara right beside him. The Devourer let out a roar that shattered the sky, its body flickering between forms—half a god, half a shadow, and something beyond either. It was wounded. Not by a blade. Not by magic. But by doubt.Evans clenched his fists. This was their chance.A monstrous tendril lashed toward them, slicing through the air like a scythe. Evans barely managed to dodge, rolling under it as the ground where he had just stood exploded into black mist. Amara jumped, flipping in midair, her hands glowing with golden light. She unleashed a blast straight into the creature’s shifting form.The Devourer screamed.It wasn't a cry of pain. It was something worse. A sound of panic.Evans charged, summoning every ounce of strength he had left. His body was battered, his ribs ached, but he ignored it. Pain didn't matter. Fear didn’t ma

Evans stood in the middle of the battlefield, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The war was over. The Devourer was gone. And yet, an eerie silence stretched across the land, thick with something unspoken. The ground beneath him was still cracked from the battle, the scent of scorched earth lingering in the air.Amara pulled away from their embrace, her golden eyes scanning their surroundings. “It’s too quiet,” she murmured.Evans frowned. She was right. The remnants of the enemy forces—the shadow creatures, the cursed warriors—had vanished along with the Devourer. But something still felt… unfinished.Then, a slow, rhythmic clapping echoed through the air.Evans turned sharply.A lone figure stood on the remnants of a ruined tower, bathed in the crimson light of the setting sun. He was draped in a dark cloak, his face half-hidden by the hood, but there was something disturbingly familiar about the way he carried himself—calm, unshaken, a

Evans sat in silence, staring at the flickering candlelight. The room around him felt suffocating. The weight of the decision hung over him like a storm cloud, darkening everything. Amara sat beside him, her presence a steady anchor, yet the tension between them was palpable. They both knew what was at stake. The Devourer was gone—but only because he had faced the deepest corners of his own mind. But had it truly been eradicated? Or had it merely slunk back into the shadows, waiting for another moment of weakness?He turned to Amara, finding her gaze steady and unwavering."You’re quiet," she said softly.Evans blinked, his thoughts still swirling. "I’m not sure what to do next."Amara’s expression softened, and she placed her hand on his. "We can’t fight something that’s already gone, Evans. The battle with the Devourer is over.""But is it really?" He pulled his hand away from hers, running it through his hair. "What if I’ve only delaye

The camp was quiet, but the weight of the silence felt like an unshakable storm cloud hanging above them. The aftermath of the battle had left its mark on everyone, but more than the physical wounds was the uncertainty—how could they rebuild when the very fabric of their reality had been torn apart?Evans stared into the horizon, where the smoke from the burned battlefield still lingered like a fading memory. He could still feel the sting of his exhaustion, the remnants of the Devourer’s power still tingling in his veins. But there was something else, too. An unease that gnawed at him, a whispering doubt that clung to his thoughts no matter how hard he tried to push it away."You’re not alone in this," Amara’s words echoed in his mind, but somehow, they didn’t reach him. He needed more than words right now. He needed answers.He heard footsteps behind him, and before he could turn, a voice cut through the silence."You’re still thinking about it,

The silence was deafening.Evans stood in the center of the ruined camp, his body still trembling from the weight of what he had just witnessed. The air was thick with the remnants of the creature's storm, the dark clouds still swirling above, but now there was no sound, no movement. The world around him seemed suspended in time, as though it was holding its breath.He didn’t know how long they stood there, the storm above them slowly dissipating. Amara’s hand remained tightly clasped around his arm, her grip firm, but there was fear in her eyes. Fear and something else. Something deeper.“We have to go,” Amara said quietly, her voice barely a whisper. “Before it comes back.”Evans nodded but didn’t move. His mind was still reeling. What had just happened? The creature was gone—vanished—but he could feel it, the faint echo of its presence, lingering in the depths of his mind. It wasn’t over. Not yet.He turned to Amara, his voice low. “Wh