[???]
Lyra exhaled sharply, standing at the center of an enormous crater—her crater. The earth lay devastated around her, blackened and lifeless, a violent imprint of her power. Scorched stone, shattered ground. And yet, amidst this, a single unblemished sight remained, untarnished.
A blade.
Half-buried in the deadened soil, Sabre rested—pristine and resplendent, a thing that did not belong here. Its radiant red hue gleamed beneath the dull, ashen sky, an anomaly among devastation. The contrast was unsettling, a wound of color in a world devoid of life. It was almost offensive in its presence, its unnatural brilliance so absolute that it seemed more concept than creation, more principle than mere weapon.
Lyra frowned, her eyes narrowing.
"This took much too long to find."
