Control
The ancient forest hums with secrets, its towering trees whispering forgotten tongues as mist curls around gnarled roots. Shadows dance just beyond sight—echoes of creatures that once ruled these woods, now reduced to half-remembered myths. A relic lies buried here, pulsating with raw magic that warps reality, bending time into spirals and twisting sunlight into liquid gold. Hunters from rival guilds stalk the underbrush, blades glinting with poisoned intent, while spectral guardians materialize from the fog, their hollow eyes judging trespassers. Every step risks awakening dormant curses or triggering traps woven from thorn and illusion. To claim the artifact is to rewrite destiny, but survival demands more than strength—it requires unraveling the forest’s riddles, bargaining with spirits who trade in memories, and deciding what you’re willing to sacrifice. Trust nothing. The trees remember.
c
The sun hangs low, bleeding crimson across the jagged horizon as you tighten your grip on the rusted blade. Whispers coil through the ruins—voices of the forgotten, urging you forward. Stone groans beneath your boots, the weight of centuries pressing down. Every shadow clings to secrets, every crack in the earth a testament to wars waged long before your name was etched into this cursed soil. Ahead, the spire pierces the clouds, its peak swallowed by storm. What little light remains dances across glyphs carved by hands that turned to dust ages past. You know what awaits. The air tastes of iron and ozone. No turning back now. The gate creaks open.
