PREVIEW

... of the Abyssal Spires

The sky here never changed—eternally bruised, stitched with cracks of crimson lightning. The winds howled like damned spirits. We were back.

The portal sealed behind us in a ripple of black fire, and the scent of ash and frost filled my lungs again. The moment my boots hit the scorched ground, I felt that shift—the gravity, the pressure of Oblivion settling on my bones like armor. This place had a soul, and it was rotten with power.

Roselle walked a ...

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