Story 758: The Rotting Cathedral Awakens

The Rotting Cathedral groaned as its decayed foundations trembled. From the cracks in its walls, shadows bled like liquid night, oozing toward the intruders.

Selene Nocturna, standing amid the ruin, wiped the blood from her lips—not her own, but a gift from something far older than death. She exhaled slowly, her breath curling like dark mist.

"You’ve come far, Lysander," she purred, mocking admiration laced in every syllable. "But you were always foolish."

Lysander steadied himself, silver energy crackling at his fingertips. His accomplice, the nameless alchemist, chanted furiously, forcing their magic to hold back the corruption slithering toward them. The walls shifted, breathing, as if the Cathedral itself had been roused from a slumber.

It was no longer just a place—it was alive.

And it was furious.