The crimson moon ascended, bathing the world in a hue of dread. The wind carried whispers that sounded like lamentations of the forgotten. Trees bent as though bowing before an unseen force, their shadows trembling under the ominous glow.
Leah's breath quickened. The moment the moon turned red, the seal she had sworn to protect began to shatter.
Fragments of ancient runes flared across the sky, dissolving into the night like burning paper.
"Not now… not yet," she whispered, clutching her chest where the mark of her lineage burned.
The ground beneath her trembled. From the depths, a voice thundered—low, resonant, and filled with malice.
"Awaken… awaken, my curse."
And with the rise of the Blood Moon, the ancient nightmare stirred once more.