The Divide crackled with tension, each thread trembling as though alive with warning. The companions stood before the unstable nexus, their breaths shallow, their senses sharp. The air was oppressive, heavy with the weight of something ancient and watchful. The swirling shadows that surrounded the nexus grew thicker, taking on forms that felt more tangible, more deliberate. These weren't just manifestations of chaos; they were creations born of intent.
Kael gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, his eyes narrowing as the shadows began to converge. Their shapes twisted into grotesque forms, humanoid but alien, their bodies shifting as if struggling to maintain coherence. Their glowing eyes bore into him, and he felt the unmistakable sensation of being judged.
"They're different this time," he muttered, taking a step forward to shield the others. "They're not attacking yet, but they're watching us. Waiting for something."