Aria nodded slowly. "It's watching us the way a living thing watches something new enter its territory. Curious. Cautious."
Puddle bobbed gently in the air, its glow calm and steady. "Not afraid," it added. "Listening."
They advanced deeper into the expanse. With every step, the threads connecting them shimmered faintly, responding to subtle shifts in emotion and intent. When Rhys felt uncertainty, the threads tightened—not painfully, but reassuringly. When Caria's resolve hardened, they pulsed with strength. When Lyra's attention sharpened, shadows seemed to move just a little more willingly around her.
It wasn't power being forced upon them.
It was resonance.
They reached the center of the valley, where a vast, circular platform lay etched into the stone. At its heart stood a monolith—smooth, dark, and impossibly tall, its surface etched with countless sigils that glowed faintly in shifting patterns.
