Kael stood motionless on the narrow stone bridge, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths, sweat clinging to his back like a second skin.
The void around him pulsed with a restless energy, the grey mist swirling in silent anticipation, its whispers a faint echo of the trials he had already conquered.
His wounds throbbed, a dull symphony of pain that pulsed in time with his heartbeat, but his silver eyes burned with an unyielding fire, a testament to the resolve that had carried him this far.
Abyssal Fang rested in his grip, its dark edge gleaming faintly, a silent partner in the crucible of the pagoda.
The Gatekeeper loomed before him, an obsidian sentinel whose presence seemed to anchor the void itself. Its armor, etched with ancient runes, began to tremble, faint cracks spiderwebbing across its surface like fractures in a frozen lake.
A low hum filled the air, resonant and primal as if the bridge were singing under the weight of what was to come.
