Leor stepped back into the castle, the cold fury in his eyes now tempered into something sharper—purpose. The weight of their failure still pressed against him, but there was no time to dwell on it. They had lost the sceptre, but the war was far from over.
Leor's eye colour shifted to a piercing emerald green as his gaze swept across the war-scarred room. The guardians stood amidst the battle-worn remnants, their faces etched with concern, yet their resolve remained unbroken. It was a moment that would be etched in their memories forever, for never before had anyone witnessed Leor's eyes turn this unearthly shade of green.
"New guardians, follow me," he commanded, his voice firm and authoritative.
A soft murmur rippled through the room as the teenagers exchanged weighted glances. Some were curious only for a fleeting instant before stepping forward, their spines straightening with a mix of steely determination and nervous trepidation, born of the unknown that lay ahead.