The ground trembles beneath Elorin's feet as the cloaked figures of the Order move in closer, their presence suffocating, like a dark storm descending. The fire flickers wildly in the wind, casting eerie shadows across their hooded faces. Their eyes gleam beneath their hoods, glowing with an unnatural light that makes Elorin's skin crawl.

Rhylen shifts his stance, his sword raised and ready. His eyes never leave the approaching figures, but Elorin can sense the tension in his body, the calculation of every possible move he could make if the situation escalates. She grips the relic tightly, its warmth the only source of comfort in the oppressive darkness surrounding them.

"You've brought us far enough," the lead figure says, stepping forward. His voice is cold, authoritative. "The relic is the key to everything. It belongs to the Order, as it always has."

Elorin takes a step back, her heart pounding. "The relic… it's a weapon. It's meant to stop the invasion."

The figure chuckles softly, the sound sending chills through her. "A weapon? Is that what you believe? Foolish girl. The relic was never meant to stop anything. It was created to bring about the end. The invasion is only the beginning."

Her blood runs cold as the weight of the figure's words sinks in. "What are you talking about?"

The lead figure gestures toward the relic in her hand, his eyes narrowing. "The relic is a key. A key to a door that separates this world from the next. It was never meant to defend. It was meant to open that door and allow the power beyond to spill into our world."

Elorin's heart races, her grip tightening around the relic. "No… that can't be true."

Rhylen's voice cuts through the growing tension. "If that's your goal, then you're no better than Varkos."

The figure's hood shifts slightly, and though his face is hidden, Elorin can sense his twisted smile. "Varkos is but a fool who seeks power for himself. He doesn't understand the true purpose of the relic. But we do. And you, girl, have brought us closer to that goal."

Elorin's mind spins, the weight of his words crashing down on her. She had been fighting to keep the relic out of Varkos's hands, thinking it was their only chance to stop the invasion. But now, the Order was telling her that the relic's true purpose wasn't to protect—it was to destroy.

"We won't let you have it," Rhylen growls, his sword gleaming in the faint firelight.

The lead figure tilts his head slightly, as if amused by the threat. "You are irrelevant. The relic has chosen its path. Whether you fight or not, the door will open."

The words hit Elorin like a punch to the gut. The relic had been guiding her all this time, leading her toward the keys, toward something she didn't fully understand. But now, the idea that she might have been helping the very forces she was trying to stop fills her with dread.

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"I won't let that happen," Elorin says, her voice trembling but defiant.

The lead figure steps closer, his presence looming. "You have no choice."

Rhylen moves swiftly, stepping between Elorin and the Order, his sword raised. "We're not giving it to you. If you want it, you'll have to go through me."

The cloaked figures remain still, their cold eyes watching, waiting. The tension in the air is palpable, like a bowstring pulled taut, ready to snap at any moment. Elorin's mind races, her thoughts scrambling for a way out. She can feel the relic pulsing in her hand, its warmth growing stronger, more insistent.

Before the figure can respond, the ground shakes again—harder this time. A deep rumble echoes through the cliffs, and the earth beneath them trembles violently. The figures of the Order shift, their attention briefly diverted as the rumbling grows louder.

Elorin's breath catches. Something is happening.

"The door," the lead figure mutters, his voice laced with anticipation. "It's beginning."

Without warning, a crack splits the ground beneath their feet, jagged and deep, stretching out from the center of the clearing like a spiderweb. Dark energy seeps from the fissure, swirling up into the air in thick, twisting tendrils. The air grows cold, heavy with the weight of ancient magic.

Rhylen swears under his breath, his eyes wide with alarm. "What's happening?"

The lead figure steps back, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "The door is opening."

Elorin's heart races as the dark energy surges around them, the pressure in the air growing unbearable. She stumbles back, clutching the relic tightly against her chest. The symbols etched into its surface glow brighter, pulsing wildly as if reacting to the magic swirling around them.

The Order watches in silence, their attention fixed on the growing fissure. Elorin can feel the power radiating from it, raw and untamed, like a force waiting to be unleashed. The realization hits her like a hammer—this is the door the Order had spoken of. This is what the relic had been leading her toward.

"No," Elorin whispers, shaking her head. "This can't be happening."

The lead figure steps forward, his gaze fixed on the relic in her hand. "It is happening, and you will bear witness to the rebirth of this world."

Rhylen moves quickly, grabbing Elorin by the arm and pulling her back. "We need to get out of here, now."

Elorin stumbles after him, her mind racing. She can feel the relic's power building, its warmth turning into a burning heat that sears her skin. The door is opening, and if they don't act fast, it will be too late to stop it.

"We can't just run!" Elorin protests, panic rising in her chest. "The door—if it opens, everything will be lost."

Rhylen's grip tightens on her arm as he glances back at the growing fissure. "We're outnumbered. We can't take them on here. We need to regroup, figure out how to stop this before it's too late."

Elorin hesitates, her mind torn between the danger they face and the urgency of the situation. The Order had said the door would open, that it was inevitable. But deep down, she knows that there has to be a way to stop it. The relic holds the power to change everything—she just doesn't know how to control it yet.

As they turn to retreat, the lead figure's voice cuts through the chaos. "You can't run forever, Elorin. The door will open, and you cannot stop what is coming."

Rhylen pulls her forward, his pace quickening as they sprint toward the edge of the clearing. The ground shakes beneath them, the dark energy swirling higher into the sky, casting an ominous glow over the cliffs. The wind picks up, howling through the trees as if the very world is tearing apart.

They reach the edge of the clearing, and Rhylen stops, turning to face her. "We need to get to Lorithas. If there's any way to stop this, we'll find the answers there."

Elorin nods, her chest tight with fear and uncertainty. The weight of the relic presses down on her, its power both a burden and a lifeline. She glances back at the clearing, where the Order stands watching them, their eyes glowing in the darkness.

The door is opening, and time is running out.