The trek out of the Rift's depths was slow, each step heavier than the last. The air felt cleaner, less charged with malevolence, but there was no relief in the silence. Adira led the group with steady purpose, her blade drawn and her senses sharp. Behind her, Kael's steady footsteps and Finn's occasional grumbles were the only sounds breaking the oppressive quiet.
Rhea clutched her staff, her light dim as exhaustion etched lines into her face. Kane, ever the shadow in their midst, stayed close to her side, his expression unusually somber.
"We've destroyed the shard," Kael said, his voice low but carrying. "Shouldn't that have stopped this madness?"
Rhea shook her head. "The shard was a fragment, a remnant of the Rift's connection to this world. Destroying it weakened the energy, but the Rift itself—its heart—is still unstable. It's reacting to the void we created."
Kane smirked humorlessly. "So, in trying to stop it, we made it angry."