The world burned with memory and rebirth.
As Dante and Selena emerged from the rift, the sky behind them tore open like a wounded beast. Cracks of crimson bled through the clouds, casting the land below in a perpetual twilight that was neither dawn nor dusk. Magic poured from the skies like liquid fire, staining the horizon in shades of war. The world they had once known—its laws, its gravity, its silence—was changing.
A new age had begun.
But with it came a cost.
Beneath their feet, the Valley of the Hollow Thrones had become a battlefield of the unseen. Ethereal figures moved like smoke through the ruined land—echoes of old gods, forgotten kings, cursed witches, and vengeful spirits—all drawn by the breaking of the Shatterspell. Some mourned. Some screamed. Some waited.
And above them all, from a throne of obsidian floating atop a shattered mountain of bone, sat the new enemy—the King in Black Flame.
