The obsidian plain lay behind them, a monument to silence and a freed jailer. The air, once thick with suspended intent, now felt thin and ragged, like a breath held for too long finally released. The tear in the world ahead was not a distant sight anymore; it was a presence. It dominated the eastern sky, a vertical wound that bled a light that was the absence of light, a silent scream given form.
The Aetherium Road led them directly toward it, its stones now glowing with a desperate, urgent luminescence, as if rallying its last strength for the final approach. There was no mist, no bog, no feature of the land to obscure the view. The Abyss had pulled back every veil. There was nothing left to hide. The invitation was absolute, and terrifying.
"It knows we're coming," Corvin stated, his voice flat. He cleaned his blade on a rag, the motion automatic, his eyes never leaving the pulsing rift.
