Lucian and Aiden arrive at the edge of the forbidden land, their steps slow, deliberate.
Everything around them remains dry, unnaturally so. The trees, cracked and lifeless, stretch toward the dull sky like brittle claws.
The earth is dust beneath their boots. It's exactly as they remember it, and yet the stillness feels heavier this time.
Foreboding.
Lucian tightens his grip on Aiden's hand as they approach the ancient tree, their marks glowing faintly against their skin, silent reminders that they were chosen for this.
That they carry something ancient, something powerful. But the tree looms in silence, indifferent, as if waiting for their next move.
When they get there, Aiden glances at Lucian, his voice barely above a whisper. "So… what do we do?"
