The crystal before them pulsed with an eerie light, casting strange shadows on the crumbling walls of the ancient ruin. The air felt heavy, thick with the residual magic of an age long past. Elara stood at the pedestal, her fingers still resting lightly on the crystal's surface, a cold tingle running up her arm. The visions had faded, but their meaning was now etched into her mind.
She turned toward Thorne and Morgana, the weight of the revelation settling in. "The ley lines… they were never meant to be controlled. The civilization that tried to manipulate them triggered the rifts, and now, whatever forces they unleashed are still trying to reassert themselves."
Thorne's face was grim. "So, the rifts weren't just accidents. They were caused by someone trying to harness this power. And now, we're dealing with the aftermath."