The Hollow smoldered in silence.

Where the seal once pulsed with magic, now only a crater remained—scorched, silent, and seething with Mara’s last curse. Ash clung to the trees like a funeral veil. The moon above flickered behind rolling clouds, casting only slivers of light on the ruined grove.

Aria stood at the edge of the crater, her palm still bleeding, spirit trembling. Mara’s laughter still echoed in her ears. Not just sound—something deeper. Something that lingered in her ...