The Temple of the First Roar was nothing like Amaya expected.
In her mind, temples were supposed to be grand, shining things—tall pillars, carved stone, sacred symbols glowing with divine light.
But this place…
this place felt older than the sky.
The entrance wasn't built.
It was grown.
A massive arch of white stone rose from the mountain itself, veins of silver running through it like frozen lightning. Vines clung to its surface, shimmering faintly as though each leaf carried its own tiny soul. The air hummed—a low vibration that crawled up Amaya's legs, into her spine, into the back of her skull.
Leo tightened his grip around her as he carried her up the final steps. She had insisted on walking, but the moment they reached the foot of the mountain, her legs had given out again. Her cores flickered inside her chest like unstable flames—gold, white, and something shadowy she didn't yet understand.
The Ancient Tiger walked ahead, barely casting a glance at either of them.
