The light was blinding. It swirled around Elara like a storm, twisting and flickering in patterns that defied reason. The air became thick with an oppressive energy, heavy as lead, pulling at her consciousness. The world as she knew it was dissolving, the edges of reality blurring, and she felt herself being sucked into an abyss where time and space had no meaning.
Her thoughts were scattered, her mind slipping away from her grasp, but through the chaos, there was a singular thread that anchored her—a pulse from the relic in her hand. It was the only constant in the whirlwind of sensations, a grounding force that called to her through the storm. The power of the relic surged once more, its energy pushing back against the pull of the rift. She could feel it urging her to focus, to resist being consumed by the void.