The Weight of Survival

The camp fell into an unnervingly quiet hush as daybreak loomed, with the first tendrils of light beginning to spread weakly over the exhausted survivors. No one could afford the luxury of sleep: the threat of corruption from Abyss kept everyone on the brink of nerves. Ryu stood on the outskirts of the camp, watching the darkness slowly lighten at the horizon as it deepened into pale gray, his thoughts heavy with the chilling words of Alden that night.

"The Abyss isn't just trying to destroy us. It's calling to something."

Ryu clutched Voidfang tighter, the familiar weight of it a small comfort amidst growing uncertainty. The black shard in his pocket seemed to pulse faintly, a rhythmic reminder of the darkness they were fighting against.