Darkness had enveloped Lumis’s world, transforming the familiar into something alien. Yet he worked on, bent over his unfinished creation in the crystalline workshop. The device, an intricate fusion of metal and crystal, pulsed faintly with a soft, rhythmic glow. Lumis couldn’t explain why he was making it—only that it had to be done.
His world, a realm of perfect harmony, where every sound and vibration intertwined into an eternal melody, had grown unnervingly silent. The air felt thick and heavy, as if the very fabric of reality was holding its breath.
Then, the change came. A sharp chill swept through the room, and the crystals on his workbench began to flicker like flames caught in an invisible wind. Lumis froze.
From somewhere far away, beyond the walls of the workshop and the expanse of shimmering lakes outside, came a sound. It started as a low, resonant hum and rose into a piercing cry, not unlike the call of a hawk, but laced with the weight of metal and stone shattering into shards. The sound gripped his chest like a vice.
He rose and moved to the window. His workshop overlooked a serene expanse of crystalline lakes that mirrored the skies above. Tonight, those mirrors were dark. Shadows spilled across their surfaces like ink, and at the horizon, where water met sky, Lumis saw it—a jagged tear in the fabric of reality.
Its edges glowed with an eerie, dark purple light, flickering like fire. From the tear spilled a writhing shadow, creeping relentlessly over the lakes and toward the land.
Lumis tightened his grip on the edge of the window. This was no ordinary disruption. It was a warning, a summons.
“They’re here,” he murmured, his voice trembling as it joined the echoes of the fractured sky.
Elsewhere, in a distant world, Ayna stood by her sacred spring. The water, usually clear and vibrant, now appeared lifeless, as if frozen in time. Its surface shimmered with an unnatural stillness.
Closing her eyes, Ayna listened. Her connection to the pulse of nature allowed her to feel the sound that rippled across the realms. To her, it wasn’t just a cry—it was a call. She gripped her staff tightly.
“The time has come,” she whispered, stepping away from the spring and toward an unseen path that would lead her to the others.
At the same moment, Tarik stood at the crossroads between worlds. His fingers traced the ancient runes carved into a stone marker. He had been waiting for this moment, yet the sound still sent a shiver through him.
“They’ve begun,” he muttered, his voice calm but resolute. Around him, the boundaries of reality shimmered and wavered like heat rising from the desert sands.
The shadows pouring from the tears in the worlds were advancing, spreading their dark influence across realms. Each of the heroes could feel the weight of what was coming, but also the spark of something greater awakening within them.
The time to unite was drawing near.