The skies above the Spirit Realm rippled like water disturbed by a falling stone. Lyra, the Spirit Queen, materialized in the sky with grace befitting a queen, her flowing silver-blue robes fluttering around her as if reality itself bowed to her presence.
She had been in deep meditation—when a jarring sensation shattered her focus. One of her guardian spirits… was dead.
'What…?' she thought, rising slowly. She reached out through the thread of spirit energy, only to recoil.
The spirit's soul had been reduced to nothing but charred remnants—its once-pure essence corrupted and incinerated.
'No ordinary force could have done this… Not to a Greater Spirit.'
Then it struck her—ominous energy… from the Graveyard of the Dark Spirits.
Her eyes widened. 'The grave… the chains…'
With a thunderous clap of wind, she vanished from the sky and reappeared before the massive cratered tombstone. Her breath caught as she beheld what lay before her.
The chains were broken.
