Arkan Eriker died…
And with him, the last of the ancient symbols departed.
He didn't fall in battle,
But he passed away after handing the galaxy over
to a new generation.
Argon assumed
leadership of his faction,
without calamities or celebrations,
but with a heavy silence
that only true leaders understand.
Beside him stood
his wife, Taya,
his heart and support,
and his mother, Elena,
the bearer of sin
and the guardian of balance.
The battles didn't cease…
But they became lighter,
less chaotic,
and more cautious.
The cosmic prison
remained closed,
the ring of the seven universes
groaned under pressure,
but it hadn't yet broken.
As for the deviant beings,
they hadn't perished.
They were regenerating in the shadows,
as if chaos
had learned how to survive.
And on the other side,
the wizarding world
was regrouping.
They were no longer mere remnants,
nor simply followers of forbidden magic,
but an organized force
seeking to prove itself
as a formidable power
that must be acknowledged
by all who live
in that galaxy.
One of their leaders said:
"We will no longer be fought…
We will be recognized."
Argon found himself
between three fronts:
An undying chaos
A prison that would not open
And magic demanding its place
And he must lead,
not just as the son of Arkan,
but as a leader
who carries the galaxy's balance
on his shoulders.
For the question was no longer:
Who will prevail?
But:
Who will shape the world to come?
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