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description
Beneath the smoldering skies of Eldrath, where the ancient12stones hum with forgotten power, a lone wanderer clutches a shard of the Shattered Crown—its jagged edges pulse in time with the dying heartbeat of the realm. Shadows coil like serpents around the ruins of Kar’nath, once a bastion of the Skyborne Empire, now a graveyard of fractured titans whose rusted bones pierce the clouds. The air reeks of ozone and betrayal. Legends whisper of the Iron Choir, their hymn capable of unstitching reality itself, but only if the Seven Canticles are sung beneath the bleeding gaze of the3rdmoon. Yet the Canticles are scattered—buried in the gullet of the Dunesinger Wyrms, etched into the obsidian flesh of the Silent Monoliths, or traded away by the Labyrinth Weavers for secrets that gnaw at the soul. Time unravels. The wanderer’s scars glow cerulean, a map written in pain, guiding them toward the Clockwork Citadel where the gears of fate grind slower, slower, slower. Trust nothing. The stars here are liars, the rivers flow backward, and every step forward tastes like ash and inevitability.
