The sun did not rise.
It hovered—trapped in a dull crimson ring—flickering like a dying candle behind a veil not made of clouds but of something older, something alive.
Throughout the crumbling remnants of civilization, those attuned to the spiritual, the cursed, and the long-dead knew the truth: this was the Veil Eclipse—a once-mythic convergence where the boundaries between the realms collapsed entirely. Spirit, shadow, and flesh would walk hand in hand... and no sanctuary would remain.
Mara Quinn awoke gasping in a circle of ash. Her eyes bled shadow; her breath fogged with whispers. Beside her, Iri Vance was still kneeling, the Reliquary of Hearts now cracked, its once-still glass swirling with screaming faces.
All around them, the world groaned as the Veil split wider, letting nightmares in.