The quiet moments with Elara were fleeting. As dawn broke through the shattered church windows, a new urgency filled the air. Damien and Elara knew they couldn’t linger; the world was still hostile, and the remnants of the Zombie King’s curse continued to fester in hidden places.
“There's one last stronghold,” Elara whispered, her gaze steely. “The curse can only be fully broken if we face what lies in the Black Hollow.”
Damien’s eyes narrowed. Black Hollow was a place he’d heard of—a cavernous ruin, shrouded in lore and warnings. Few who ventured there ever returned. But if Elara believed it was their only hope, he would follow her into the dark without question.
“I’m with you,” he said, his hand finding hers.