Whispers of the Unseen

The night was thick with tension as Reinhardt followed Selene through the ruined battlefield. The scent of death clung to the air, yet she walked as if untouched by the carnage. The moonlight bathed her in an ethereal glow, her dark robes flowing like shadows at her feet.

Reinhardt's grip tightened around the hilt of his sword. "Where are we going?" he asked, his voice low but firm.

Selene glanced over her shoulder, amusement flickering in her violet eyes. "You ask as if you have a choice."

His jaw clenched. He wasn't sure he did. He had burned his bridges, cut his ties to the Order, and now stood on the precipice of something far greater—something unknown.

They ventured deeper into the ruins, where the remnants of forgotten civilizations lay buried beneath moss and decay. The air grew colder, charged with an unseen force. Shadows seemed to shift around them, moving in ways they shouldn't.

Reinhardt slowed his pace. "What is this place?"

Selene halted before a crumbling archway, its stone adorned with symbols long lost to time. She turned to him, her gaze unreadable. "The remnants of an age before yours. A time when magic was unshackled, and power belonged to those who dared to wield it."

Reinhardt's fingers twitched. "And what do you plan to do with that power?"

She smiled, stepping closer. "Harness it. Mold it. And when the time comes… unmake the world that shackled us both."

His heart pounded. He had fought by her side, defied the Order, and slaughtered his former comrades. But now, as he stared into her eyes, he wondered if he had merely traded one master for another.

"You hesitate," she observed, tilting her head. "Are you afraid?"

Reinhardt met her gaze, his voice steady despite the unease gnawing at him. "I fear walking blindly into something I don't understand."

Selene chuckled, reaching up to trace his jawline with a delicate finger. "Then let me show you."

Before he could react, the ground beneath them trembled. The ruins groaned as an unseen force stirred within them. A pulse of energy erupted from the archway, sending a shiver down Reinhardt's spine.

Selene's eyes gleamed. "The seals are weakening. The old ones are waking."

A gust of wind howled through the ruins, carrying with it whispers—voices that did not belong to the living. And as the darkness thickened around them, Reinhardt realized one thing: whatever lay beyond that archway was not meant for mortal hands.

But it was too late to turn back now.