The desert stretched endlessly before them, dunes rolling like frozen waves of gold beneath the blazing sun. Yet the air no longer carried only heat—it carried tension, weight, the faint stench of corruption that grew heavier with every step.
At the forefront of the marching host strode a golden-haired boy, his presence like a beacon amid the endless sands. Aiden's eyes, clear and resolute, gleamed with golden light as his hand gripped the radiant blade at his side. Each step he took seemed to steady the wavering hearts behind him.
Beside him, Kyle walked with his spear resting easily across his shoulders, a sharp grin plastered across his face despite the oppressive atmosphere. Lilliane's expression was tense but determined, her hands clenched around her staff. Selena's gaze, cool and sharp, never strayed from the horizon, her violet eyes like shards of ice that cut through the haze of heat.
