Leon frowned.
There were two armies frozen around him. One wore black and bronze armor, wielding weapons powered by compressed mana cores. The other side—ghostly, semi-transparent—wielded raw energy and radiant sigils, their faces obscured by helms of crystal.
He walked forward through the stillness, boots crunching soft ash.
The system whispered again:
Cause of the war: A forgotten Echo. A king who never ascended. A prophecy that failed.
Find the one who started it.
Find the one who still believes it isn't over.
A humming sound reached his ears.
Then a voice.
Faint, feminine. Tired. Determined.
"You're not part of either side."
He turned.
A woman sat atop a broken war machine, her armor cracked and her left arm missing. Her gaze was sharp, unbroken despite her injuries.
Her badge bore the name: Commander Elarin.
"You came through the cracked gate," she said. "That means you're not bound by this loop."
Leon stepped closer. "Who started the war?"
