The cavern's vast chamber pulsed with a low, resonant hum, its smooth walls glistening under the crystal's shimmering light.
Camelia stood before the colossal structure, its translucent surface radiating a quiet, ancient power that synced with the world's thrum. The air was heavy, charged with a metallic tang, like distant ore veins whispering of forgotten depths.
Her hand hovered near the crystal, its glow flaring softly, as if urging her to touch it again, to unravel the _web of connections_ it had shown her—a woman's desperate work, ancient oaths, a purpose lost.
Atherion stepped beside her, his red eyes reflecting the crystal's facets, his face taut with cautious awe.
"This isn't just a relic," he said, his voice low, steady. "It's tied to the shards, isn't it?"
His hand brushed the hilt of his sword, a reflex against the unknown, but his gaze stayed on Camelia, trusting her lead.
