Main Story

The city was a graveyard of ambition, and you were the grave robbers. The ruins offered power, but demanded blood in return. Jeane strode into the decay like she owned it already—arrogant, calculating, and utterly fearless. Silra moved with the instincts of a predator who sensed a larger predator nearby—cautious, alert, every muscle coiled for flight or fight.

Sister Hale saw the corruption beneath the surface and knew exactly what it meant—the work of ancient hands, deliberate and malevolent. The ground began to move. Not shift. Not settle. Move. Deliberately. Purposefully. Something massive was pushing up from below, breaking through the pavement with visible force.