(Damien POV )
The ruined temple stood like a broken crown on the ridge—marble columns cracked and leaning, dome shattered open to the night sky, moonlight spilling through in cold, silver shafts. I stepped inside without pause. The air was thick with old power—centuries of rituals soaked into stone, faint echoes of chants and blood long dried. Shadows clung to the walls, welcoming, familiar. I felt no awe, no reverence. Only recognition. This place understood ruin. It had been waiting for me.
