Two titanic mountain ranges rose like the jaws of titans from a silent deep of a vast, twilight-streaked sea!
Achilles had seen them in a vision soaked in the hues of Time- violet, soft, and unfathomable.
One range was cloaked in endless snow, its razor-edged peaks crowned in frost, and the other range seemed shaped from sorrow itself, gray mists coiling down its flanks like waterfalls of shadow.
Between these ancient titans sat an island- still, dark, and breathing.
There, darkness had risen. There, he had seen it: the Primordial Light of Darkness, a silhouette with wings darker than void, reaching toward the skies where something more horrific stirred- a crimson eye wrapped in writhing tendrils and wings of dread.
He came back to himself as he breathed out heavily.
Still on Rose's lap, Achilles opened his eyes. Purple rings shimmered in his irises, pulsing softly with residual echoes of the vision. Her fingers, warm and steady, slid through his hair.
