The temple loomed like a sleeping relic in the demon realm.
Carved into the jagged cliffs of the palace's farthest reach, its surface was buried beneath layers of vine, as though the world itself had tried to forget it.
The structure was vast yet strangely silent, its towering spires bending slightly as if bowed beneath the weight of centuries.
No wind stirred here, only the sound of quiet breath—if one listened closely enough, it sounded almost otherworldly.
The stone steps groaned beneath their feet as Cassian and Veyce ascended, torchlight flickering dimly on either side, casting long shadows on the wall.
Cassian said nothing, but he felt very strange, a suffocating feeling gripping his heart, and every step forward felt like walking deeper into a memory he never remembered having.
The air grew heavier the closer they drew to the heart of the temple—rich with incense and something older than incense.
