His mother… alive, yet twisted by the void. The thought gnawed at Lucien as he advanced across the rolling plains, shadows coiling at his feet like serpents sensing danger. Kairo matched his pace, silent, attuned to the subtle shifts in the energy surrounding them.
"She survived," Lucien murmured, voice barely above the whisper of his cloak, "but not as I remembered her. Something else touched her… changed her."
Kairo's pale eyes scanned the horizon, glinting in the fading light. "Then she is both a target and a threat. We need to understand what we are up against before confronting her."
Ahead, the corrupted figures stirred in the valley below, their presence bending the air in unnatural waves. Lucien narrowed his eyes, sensing fragments of the White's energy interwoven with something alien, chaotic. Not just her, he realized. She brought others—or something followed her here.
Step by step, they moved closer, shadows stretching and curling around the uneven terrain. Lucien traced the faint energy trails left by his mother, subtle distortions in the air, residual pulses that only a survivor of the White could detect.
"She's not alone," Kairo said quietly, noting the patterns. "Whatever corrupted her… it resonates with power similar to yours. We must tread carefully."
Lucien's gaze hardened. "Careful, yes. Hesitant, no. I will face her, and I will understand this corruption. Whatever remains of her… I must reach it."
From the distant ridge, a pulse of energy swept toward them — deliberate, powerful, elegant. Shadows warped and bent as if the land itself acknowledged the approaching force. Lucien stepped forward, cloaked in his own shifting darkness, and allowed himself a rare flicker of anticipation.
The White was only the beginning. She… and her followers… are the next test.
With Kairo at his side, Lucien descended toward the center of the gathering chaos, ready to confront his past, his mother, and the unknown forces that had emerged from the void.