Prelude to Chaos
The air in Haven was thick with the scent of smoldering crystal and lingering energy bursts. The sanctuary's ancient walls pulsed faintly, their iridescent veins flickering like a heartbeat struggling to find rhythm. Fractured shards from the recent battle still littered the polished floor, faint traces of Rift energy clinging stubbornly to the edges of stone and steel.
Ethan stood on the central dais, shadows coiling protectively around him. Their movements were less erratic now, as though they mirrored his resolve rather than his chaos. Sweat slicked his brow, and his muscles ached from the intensity of the confrontation with Magnus. Despite the physical toll, his gaze remained sharp, eyes fixed on the holographic projections flickering above the console—strategic diagrams detailing the Nexus strongholds and their weakening defenses.