The Battle of Shadows
The sky above the village had grown darker than it had ever been before. The storm clouds that had lingered for days were now swirling into an ominous vortex, and the air crackled with a tension that made the hairs on Seraphyne's neck stand on end. She clutched the relic tightly in her hand, its soft glow the only source of light in the growing darkness.
The Keeper stood between them and the enemy—the ancient being who had been manipulating time and space for centuries. His expression was filled with confusion, regret, and a deep, almost unbearable sorrow. He had created the very forces that now threatened to undo everything, and Seraphyne could see the weight of his guilt bearing down on him.
"It wasn't supposed to be this way," the Keeper murmured, his eyes flickering from Seraphyne to the figure standing across from them. "I never meant for it to come to this."