The land beyond the monoliths wasn't merely desolate; it was wounded, as though Arborea itself had gashed its own flesh and left it bleeding ash. The Island of Dawn gave way to the Ashen Fields, a vast expanse where the earth appeared bleached of life. Beneath the Wanderer's boots, brittle tufts of grey grass crunched like old bones, each step a reminder of what once thrived here. Around them, petrified trees clawed at the bruised sky, their branches frozen mid-scream, as though time had stilled in the throes of agony. The air was unnervingly still, carrying only the faint, acrid scent of ozone and decay. Above, light was no longer the product of a living sun, but a diffuse, melancholic glow that offered neither warmth nor comfort.Written by: Valky Fischer • Narrated by: VREXIRA • Music by: Våldsam Zane

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