Evans staggered to his feet, the weight of exhaustion bearing down on him. The silence in the ruins felt heavy, suffocating, as though the air itself had been tainted by the darkness. His sword, once a glowing beacon, now dimmed, reflecting the flickering doubt in his heart."Are we safe?" Amara’s voice broke the quiet, her eyes scanning the shadows for any signs of movement."No," Miriam said, leaning heavily against the wall. "The darkness isn’t gone. It’s retreating, but it’s not defeated.""Retreating to where?" Lorian asked, his tone laced with frustration. "That thing was huge! How do you fight something that keeps coming back?"Evans didn’t answer. His gaze was fixed on the faint carvings along the wall, their glow almost entirely extinguished. The Guardian’s words gnawed at him: The darkness will take from you what you hold most dear. He clenched his fists, trying to shake off the unease, but it clung to him like a second skin.“W

The oppressive silence after the shadowed figure’s departure was deafening. Evans could still feel the lingering weight of the darkness coursing through his veins, a volatile force barely contained. His companions stood nearby, their expressions a mix of exhaustion and unease. The shadows were gone, but the scars they left behind lingered in the air.“Are you alright?” Amara asked, stepping closer. Her voice was steady, but her eyes betrayed her concern.Evans hesitated before nodding. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Something’s... changed. I can feel it inside me.”Lorian scoffed, his axe resting against his shoulder. “Changed? You just controlled the same darkness that nearly killed us. That’s not change—it’s a weapon.”Miriam’s voice was quieter, contemplative. “A weapon that might consume him if he’s not careful.” She glanced at Evans, her gaze piercing. “You’re walking a fine line. One misstep, and you might not come back.”Evans met h

The howls drew closer, echoing through the dense forest like a sinister melody. The cold air thickened with dread as Evans gripped his sword tighter, feeling the weight of the moment press against his chest. Every instinct screamed at him to flee, but he knew there was no running. Not now.“We need a plan,” Amara said, her voice steady despite the tension crackling in the air. Her bow was raised, the string taut and ready to loose an arrow at the first sign of danger.Calder stepped forward, his dark cloak blending into the night. “They’re shades,” he said, his voice low. “Creatures born of the darkness. They’re fast, relentless, and nearly impossible to kill by conventional means.”“Nearly?” Lorian growled, hefting his axe. “That’s not exactly comforting.”“They’re vulnerable to light,” Calder explained, ignoring the barb. “But only concentrated light—fire weakens them, but it won’t destroy them completely. The best chance we have is holding them

The forest seemed to tighten its grip as Evans and his companions followed the Sentinels deeper into the wilderness. The air was heavy with an unspoken tension, each step feeling like it brought them closer to the unknown. The towering trees loomed overhead, their gnarled branches blocking out the light, casting the path in a dim and shifting shadow.Althea, walking at the head of the group, spoke in hushed tones to a fellow Sentinel. Evans strained to listen, but he caught only fragments: words like "threshold" and "time running out." His fingers brushed against the shard in his pocket, its faint pulse a constant reminder of its ominous presence. A part of him feared what would come next—what the shard truly meant, what the Veil had in store for them."You’re too quiet," Amara said softly as she matched his pace."I’m thinking," Evans replied, his eyes scanning the dense forest around them. He felt as though the trees themselves were watching them, whispe

The air seemed to freeze as the dark figure loomed before them, its presence an oppressive force that threatened to crush the very essence of their will. Evans’ grip tightened around his sword, his muscles taut with the instinctual need to fight. But deep within, a voice—a whisper—nagged at him, telling him that this wasn’t just another enemy to be defeated. This was the Veil itself.The figure’s eyes were endless, black voids that swallowed all light, all hope. It spoke again, its voice a low, echoing hum that reverberated in their bones.“Foolish mortals,” it sneered, its voice almost melodic, yet dripping with malice. “You think you can defy the Veil, steal its power, and escape its grasp? You are nothing but insects, and I... I am the shadow that shall crush you.”Evans stepped forward, his hand still tight on his sword hilt. “We’ve already paid the price,” he said, his voice steady, though the weight of his own words bore down on him. “And we won