The ground trembled beneath their boots. What had once been meadows of wildflowers outside Aurora's walls had become a slick wasteland of black mud and ash, veins of crimson light pulsing beneath it like a dying heart. The air smelled of burned metal and sulfur. Above them, Nox'Vareth's silhouette loomed—wings of shredded shadow outstretched, horns glinting white as bone against the devouring dark. Each time it breathed, the horizon flickered as if reality itself had hiccupped.
Shellia gripped her staff tightly. The silver filigree along its length shimmered with a faint lunar glow, but even that seemed muted here. Beside her, Kaelin's body pulsed with faint green lines as he activated his body-enhancement technique, fists clenching like iron. Veyra's skeletal frame rattled softly as she summoned the Phantom Blade, spectral knights rising silently behind her. Daryon's human guise flickered, showing glimpses of his demonic shadowflame, yet his eyes stayed fixed on the monster ahead.
