The next morning, the team set out for the mountain range known as Shadowspire Peaks. Their path was treacherous, the jagged cliffs and narrow passes made more dangerous by the constant threat of Rift activity.

As they climbed higher, the air grew thin, and the energy of the Rifts became palpable. Strange markings adorned the rocks, glowing faintly with the same dark light as the shard.

They camped on a narrow ledge, the flickering light of their fire barely holding back the encroaching shadows.

“We’re getting close,” Cassian said, his voice low. “The Rift energy here is almost overwhelming.”

Lyra nodded. “Whatever’s waiting for us up there, it’s going to be worse than anything we’ve faced.”

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Damien sat in silence, Ebonfang resting across his knees. His thoughts were on the vision, the shadowed figure’s warning echoing in his mind.

“We’ll face it together,” Damien said finally. “Whatever it takes.”

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THE COMMAND CENTER

By the third day, they reached the summit. A massive Rift dominated the landscape, its swirling energy radiating power. Surrounding it were structures of dark stone, pulsating with light. Rift creatures patrolled the area, their movements coordinated and precise.

In the center stood a towering figure, its armor dark and ornate. It wielded a staff crackling with energy, its presence exuding authority.

“The Rift Commander,” Damien said, his voice tight. “This is it.”

The team readied their weapons, their eyes locked on the enemy.

“Let’s finish this,” Damien said, leading the charge.