The dawn's serenity was fleeting. The survivors, though relieved, were fractured—some still processing the destruction of the sanctuary, others mourning the loss of loved ones. It was a solemn reminder of the fragile world Elara and her companions were trying to protect.
As the camp formed in the clearing, makeshift tents rising amidst the charred remains of nearby trees, Morgana took charge of organizing the group. Her calm authority reassured the survivors, many of whom had relied on her during their time in the sanctuary.
Elara, however, felt the weight of the relic growing heavier in her hand. She sat away from the group, staring at its intricate surface. Its light pulsed faintly, as if mirroring her conflicted thoughts. The Nexus's power had saved them, but its volatile nature could easily destroy them.
Thorne approached silently, his imposing figure casting a long shadow over her. "You're quiet," he said, his deep voice breaking the stillness.