Silence followed the collapse, a profound quiet that enveloped the icy wasteland. For hours, the cavern remained still, sealed beneath tons of rock and ice. The energy trapped within the core no longer pulsed with chaotic fury but simmered in eerie anticipation, as if waiting.
Amidst the ruins, a faint glow began to grow, illuminating the darkness. Kael's greatsword, lodged deep in the debris, radiated a soft, golden light. The energy responded, tendrils of light curling toward the weapon like moths to a flame. The glow intensified, and with it came a pulse—slow, deliberate, and alive.
The ground trembled.
Liora gasped as her senses returned, the weight of the ice pressing against her chest. She coughed, expelling the stale air from her lungs, and clawed at the frost, her fingers numb. Every muscle in her body screamed, but she forced herself to push upward.
A faint voice echoed in her mind, distant but familiar. *"Liora… you cannot rest yet."*