The air crackled with latent energy as the guardian’s gaze pierced the shadows, their armored silhouette framed against the pulsating rift. Jagged arcs of light spiraled from the unstable portal, casting jagged reflections across the ruins—a once-grand temple now reduced to fractured pillars and crumbling glyphs. Distant whispers hissed through the stones, half-formed words in a language long buried, but the guardian didn’t flinch. Their blade hummed faintly, its edge etched with sigils that mirrored the rift’s chaotic patterns. Somewhere beyond that swirling maw, the Corruption writhed, hungering to seep into the mortal realm. Time coiled tight—a breath held too long. The first tendril of darkness lashed through the portal, viscous and serpentine. The guardian stepped forward, boots sinking into the ancient soil as the blade’s glow sharpened. They’d sworn an oath carved not in words but in blood and silence. The temple might fall. They would not.
Aim, time your shot, and launch the ball with perfect precision as it ricochets off the moving platform to shatter the distant disk. Mastery demands split-second timing and nerves of steel—one misstep, and your chance crumbles. This relentless challenge will push your reflexes to their limits.
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