The sky above the Storm Spire crackles with primal energy—bolts of Sky magic splitting the air, the roar of dragons echoing off obsidian cliffs. The battlefield is chaos: soldiers, elves, and mages clash beneath the looming spire.
But far below, deep in the earth, something stirs. Ancient stone groans and fractures as the tremors of battle reach into the darkness. A centuries-old silence is finally broken.
You feel it—the pulse of the world above, calling you back to consciousness after an age of slumber. The path is open.
Above, Caelum stands at the edge of the treeline, bow drawn, watching the conflict with sharp silver eyes. He feels something shift beneath the ground—something old, something powerful. His ears twitch.
"What... was that?"