Chapter 52. Bonds Forged in Ash

The morning came pale and cold.

Selene stood at the head of the courtyard, armor pieced together from salvaged scraps, her sword strapped to her back. Around her, the pack readied themselves—strapping on weapons, tightening armor, faces grim with purpose.

The survivors of the Crown—once shadows lurking in broken halls—now gathered in formation. They wore mismatched armor, carried chipped blades, but their eyes burned with something fierce: a hunger to live, to reclaim what was stolen.

Garron approached, his steps slow but steady.

"The darkness festers in the ruins east of here," he rasped. "It calls to the broken. If you do not destroy it, it will rise anew."

Selene nodded, feeling the weight of a thousand unspoken hopes pressing against her spine.

"We will end it," she said.