The sky bleeds red.
Not gradually, but violently, as though the heavens themselves are warning of the storm to come.
Territories once quiet are now ablaze.
Wolves fight with desperation.
Cities burn.
Supply lines are cut.
Even the strongest warriors hesitate, sensing the change.
Aria stands on a cliff, her silver hair and eyes reflecting the crimson sky.
Her wolf growls within, restless.
The Moon Goddess blessing hums through her veins—powerful, dangerous, unstable.
Kael is at her side, scarred, bruised, barely standing, yet unwavering.
“This is it,” Kael says quietly.
“Everything… everything we’ve fought for… comes down to tonight.”
Aria nods, her voice steady but tense.
“I know.”
Far across the lands, shadows gather.
A familiar presence approaches.
Lyra.
Once a trusted
