Damien's foot pressed firmly onto the last stone of the Sky Bridge, his heart steady, his breath even. The trial had carved a line through his soul and redefined the shape of his will. He no longer burned with fury nor trembled with loss. His steps had silenced the ghosts. His thoughts had passed through fire and come out refined. What remained now was a sharp, cutting intent, a will honed not by rage or pain, but by clarity.
The chasm yawned behind him like a grave that had failed to claim its due. Before him stretched something new.
He raised his eyes and took in the sight of the next path.
A stairway rose into the sky.
It was not just long. It was monumental. A thousand stone steps reached up into a luminous void that shimmered faintly with power. The lowest steps were hewn from obsidian, pitch-black and smooth, each one precisely carved and untouched by time.
