Amidst a misty, pale-blue lake, a colossal Gate hovered silently—its surface etched with bizarre, ancient runes that shimmered faintly in the fog. The surrounding air was thick and damp, carrying a silence so deep it felt sacred. The Gate, looming like a relic from another era, marked the entrance to the fabled Layer of the Three Ancients.
From behind a moss-covered rock on the lakeshore, Kyle squinted toward the large, floating structure. He sat beside Cassian and the others, the pale-blue mist curling around their forms like ghostly tendrils.
"Just like the last time I came here a year ago… I can't feel any of the energies within my body, let alone natural energy. It's like I've turned into an ordinary mortal again."
Kyle muttered, his voice low.
Cassian grabbed his shoulder and then quickly pushed him aside, speechless.
