The silence of the cavern was deceiving.
Cambria's boots struck the stone with the echo of finality as she led Knox and Maddox deeper into the heart of the hidden chamber. The glow of molten gold and black flame bathed their faces in a haunting light, the heat rising in waves that made the air shimmer. Each breath tasted of ash and old magic, and the weight of countless generations pressed down on them as if the mountain itself disapproved of their presence.
Knox's gaze never left the towering spire at the cavern's center. It rose like a broken finger pointing at the sky that would never be seen from this place, crowned in ancient symbols only half-remembered by history. He felt it calling to him, the same way the black flame had except this was deeper, older. Not a hunger for destruction, but a demand for surrender.
