The cosmic rift spat Igaris out into silence. At first glance, it looked like no world at all—just a void of floating landmasses, shattered mountains drifting endlessly in the dark, rivers of glowing spirit essence spilling into nothingness.
A broken world.
The echoes of what once was whispered through the fragments. He could see the remnants of a great civilization—giant spirit obelisks cracked in half, temples of jade and silver crumbling into space, and spectral trees whose leaves still glowed faintly with lingering life. Yet the air was wrong. It stank of corruption, thick and vile.
From the shadows of the floating ruins, demonic sigils pulsed like living wounds, binding chains of black fire across the fragments of the world. At the center of it all, suspended in a colossal crystal of spirit light now tainted by abyssal chains, floated her.
Seraphina.
