The Mark of Destiny

The deeper they ventured into the ruins, the heavier the air became, thick with the weight of ancient magic. The walls pulsed with forgotten power, the very stones whispering secrets in an unknown tongue. Selene moved with confidence, her fingers brushing against the glyphs etched into the stone. Reinhardt, however, felt the oppressive energy pressing against his mind, a silent challenge he could not ignore.

"This place was once a temple," Selene murmured. "A sanctuary of the lost."

Reinhardt frowned. "A sanctuary for whom?"

Selene's eyes flickered with unreadable emotion. "For those who sought power beyond mortality."

As they stepped into a vast chamber, the air shimmered. The ground beneath their feet trembled, and before them, a massive stone altar pulsed with dark energy. The moment Reinhardt laid eyes on it, something inside him stirred—an ancient, buried instinct clawing its way to the surface.

Selene turned to him, her voice soft yet commanding. "Do you feel it, Reinhardt?"

He clenched his fists. "What is this?"

"A choice."

Before he could question her further, the chamber rumbled, and the shadows coalesced into a towering figure. A guardian, its form shifting between solid and ethereal, its hollow eyes locking onto Reinhardt.

"The one who bears the Mark…" it intoned. "Must prove his worth."

Selene stepped back. "This is your trial, Reinhardt. Face it, or be consumed."

The creature lunged, darkness spilling forth like a tidal wave. Reinhardt barely had time to raise his blade before the battle began.

To be continued...