The sky above the Hollow began to bleed starlight as reality itself came undone. What had once been the eternal winter of Queen Lysandra's domain now writhed and twisted under the influence of the awakening Gate, its ordered crystalline structures collapsing into chaos. The stars those ancient sentinels that had watched over the frozen realm for millennia flickered and died one by one, their light fracturing like shattered glass before falling earthward in a rain of luminous shards.
Each falling fragment carried with it a piece of the night sky's memory, and where they struck the ground, they left craters that glowed with otherworldly fire. The very foundations of the Hollow groaned and buckled as forces beyond comprehension warred for dominance over this crossroads between worlds. What had been a kingdom was rapidly becoming something else entirely a nexus of raw possibility where the laws of nature bent and broke under the weight of conflicting realities.
