The altar flames of Tan guttered and died. For the first time in living memory, the eternal fire was nothing but ash.Silence filled the temple, a silence more terrible than any scream. Priests fell to their knees, torches dropping from trembling hands. Soldiers stumbled, their chants breaking into cries of disbelief. The crusader king himself, golden armor streaked with soot, stared at the extinguished brazier with eyes that no longer burned. His sword, once radiant with Tan’s blessing, flickered with a pale, uncertain glow. Was all this for naught?And in the midst of that silence stood Passion.Her dagger dripped black smoke, the blade still steaming from its plunge into the fire. Her hand trembled, yet her eyes blazed, not with fear, but with a resolve sharpened by years of secrecy. She had walked the path of faith, knelt at Tan’s altar, whispered prayers she did not mean, all to come close enough for this single strike.“I prayed,” she said, her voice cutting through the ruin. “I

The storm had not ceased since the fire died. Rain lashed the land, drumming on tents, towers, and temples alike. The people of Tan called it an omen, the courtiers of Doomsany called it a blessing, but all knew the world had changed.Something was stirring.DoomsanyQueen Dark stood before her war council, her crown humming with whispers, her black robes dripping with rain from the ride back to her fortress. The chamber smelled of wet stone and iron. Generals and spies bowed before her, but their voices trembled when they spoke.“The eternal fire is gone, Your Majesty. The crusader king’s men falter, priests despair. Some villages already abandon Tan’s banners, fleeing to the hills.”Dark smiled, her teeth glinting in the torchlight. “Fear spreads faster than flame. Let it spread. While they scatter, we strike.”Tan would not fall so easily; he was cunning. She needed to move quickly.She lifted her hand, pale and cold. “Bring me the girl.”Murmurs rippled across the chamber. One gen

The earth beneath Tan screamed.Roots older than kingdoms twisted and cracked in the dark. Rivers of molten stone pulsed like veins. In the heart of the abyss, Cellok stirred, the sacred root where all Liroids were born, where shadows breathed, and where gods once knelt.Here, deep beyond mortal reach, the Queen of Shadows waited.Evilside sat upon a throne woven from the veins of the earth, her form both woman and storm. Shadows rippled from her fingertips, her hair drifting like black smoke across the void. Her eyes, two mirrors of endless night, were fixed upon the pulsing light that had begun to rise from the deepest roots.The glow was pale gold, steady, patient, older than the dark itself.A voice came from within it, soft yet echoing through eternity.“Evilside… did you think I would sleep forever?”Evilside rose slowly. “You were buried by the choice of the gods. The age of light ended when your kind betrayed the balance.”He had the nerve to invade her sanctum using Cirax. Ta

The drums of Doomsany thundered like the heartbeat of an ancient beast.From every tower, black banners unfurled into the storm-dark sky, each bearing the mark of the Shadow Queen. The streets below blazed with torches as soldiers gathered in ranks: pale-eyed Liroids, Shadowborn knights, and the hooded priests of Cellok.At the head of it all stood Queen Dark. Her armor glimmered like liquid night, the crown on her head pulsing faintly with the breath of Evilside. Around her, the air shimmered with power, not merely sorcery, but the weight of a goddess’s presence filtering through mortal form.Scream rode beside her, still veiled, her horse’s hooves silent even upon stone. “The troops are ready. Meris lies open. Tan’s banners rise beyond the pass.”Dark’s gaze was fixed on the horizon. Her voice was quiet, too quiet.“Then we ride to end a god.”She raised her gauntleted hand, and the army roared. Shadows spilled across the field as if the earth itself bled darkness. The march began,

The wind howled across the field, carrying the smell of ash and lightning. Snake and Dragon crouched behind the broken wall, their eyes fixed on the gods clashing in the distance. The ground shook with each strike of Tan’s blade; every pulse of Evilside’s shadow cracked the sky, opening it a little more.Then a new sound rose through the storm, deep, rhythmic, measured. Not thunder, but footsteps.The Liroids felt it first. Every mark of Tar burned cold against their skin. Even the serpents that served Snake flattened themselves to the earth in terror.A column of black light split the horizon, and through it walked a woman draped in robes the color of dying stars. Her crown was simple iron; her eyes glowed faintly red. Queen Doom, the 30th generation priestess of Evilside, the keeper of Liroid law, and mother to Snake, Dark, and Glass.She did not hurry. Each step seemed to bend the wind, and where she passed, shadows froze in obedience.Dragon whispered, “She lives…”Snake’s throat