Dawn broke over the Northern Wastes like a blade cutting through fog.
The land was wrong.
Not dead.
Not barren.
Wrong.
Ash blanketed the ground in uneven drifts, yet no fire burned. Blackened stone pillars jutted from the earth like ribs of some ancient carcass. The sky above was pale gray, as if color itself hesitated to linger here.
Ethan stood at the edge of the ruined expanse.
The System pulsed.
[Domain Candidate Detected]
[Region: Ashen Crown]
[Status: Dormant — Unclaimed]
[Fourth Anchor Potential: High]
Kaelith stepped beside him, boots crunching softly against cinder.
"I don't like this place."
Ronan adjusted the sigil-bracelets around his wrist, scanning the air with faint threads of light.
"There's mana," he murmured. "But it's compressed. Folded inward."
Like a held breath.
Ethan stepped forward.
The ash did not shift under his weight.
It parted.
As if something beneath recognized him.
Kaelith noticed immediately.
"It's responding."
