****

Two months after the devastating Incident of Aetheris, in the abandoned city of Drakenshore, deep within the southern plains of Elysion, a violent storm raged, claiming the ruins as its own.

Thunder roared across the heavens, splitting the sky in violent flashes of light, while rain poured in relentless sheets, drowning the land beneath its torrential wrath. The once-proud city had long since succumbed to corruption. Its streets, once paved with stone and life, were now slick with an oozing black substance, pulsating unnaturally. Across the ruined structures, clusters of black eggs lay nestled in the decay, their veined shells glowing ominously, as if reacting to something unseen.

At the heart of the forsaken city, within a cavernous lair built from the remnants of shattered temples and broken towers, a wounded titan lay curled around her nest.

Motherglare, the Greater Titan of Fertility, still bore the scars of her battle against the Thunder King. The great black draconid's body trembled, her once-mighty form weakened. Deep wounds marred her darkened scales, her breathing labored and slow. She had not yet recovered.

Beside her, another behemoth stirred—Doloros, the Greater Titan of Destruction. Even in his wounded state, his presence was suffocating. His torn wings twitched, the remnants of Chris’ lightning bolt still crackling in their shredded membranes. His guttural buzz sent a low tremor through the lair, a sound laced with fury and pain.

From the depths of the shadows, something writhed. A voice, sharp and raw with hatred, tore through the silence.

"We will take our revenge!”

Mnemona, the Greater Titan of Deception, convulsed, her form flickering between solidity and a twisting, amorphous state. Burn marks from hellfire scorched her solid limb, the pain fueling her rage. Her yellow eyes burned fiercely as her voice shattered the air.

"You filthy Elysians! How dare you wound us like this!”

Her erratic movements distorted the very space around her, the lair trembling under the weight of her wrath—until a shift in the darkness silenced her.

From the void, figures emerged.

The first walked with eerie poise, his skeletal visage framed by a crown of gleaming gold. Though regal in stature, his presence was anything but noble. Every step he took turned the ground beneath him into gleaming gold, the land itself consumed by his insatiable power. — Midas, the Greater Titan of Greed and Gold.

Beside him, a towering figure of bark and roots strode forward, his very being an extension of death itself. The earth withered beneath his presence, every step drawing the last remnants of life from the soil.—Yggdrasil, the Greater Titan of Death.

And descending from the raging skies, its form bathed in golden dream dust, was a being unseen by mortal eyes for millennia—a colossal whale, its deep blue scales shimmering under the flickering stormlight.—Atraxia, the Greater Titan of Dreams.

Mnemona’s glowing eyes snapped toward them, fury twisting her expression. “How dare you show your faces now?” she spat, her voice sharp as a dagger. “Motherglare and Doloros nearly perished fighting that wretched king, and look at me—” She gestured at her charred body, her voice breaking into a snarl. “—burned, broken, humiliated!”

Her form flickered violently as her rage boiled over. “And what of you three? Did you sit idly while we suffered?”

Atraxia, the greater titan of dream, pulsed in irritation, his blue-hued scaled shimmering. A sudden beam of concentrated dream dust shot from his maw, streaking toward Mnemona.

She twisted midair, dodging the attack, and with a furious shriek, fired twin beams of searing light back at him. Atraxia recoiled, barely avoiding her wrath.

Then, with a thunderous crack, massive roots erupted from the lair’s floor. Yggdrasil, the Greater Titan of Death, swung his bark-encrusted limbs in a brutal arc. One gnarled branch struck Mnemona midair, sending her hurtling into the stone wall.

She let out a piercing, otherworldly cry. “You senile tree—!”

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Before she could retaliate, a sound split through the chamber.

A shriek. A terrible, ear-splitting wail, like the agonized death throes of a kingdom drowning in gold. --- Midas.

The ground trembled as gold bled outward from where the skeletal titan stepped forward, his hollowed eyes oozing golden ichor. The golden crown atop his head shimmered with a sickly radiance, and with each step, the ground beneath him transmuted to solid gold.

The moment his shriek echoed through the chamber, the fighting ceased.

Mnemona's breath hitched. Even she dared not challenge him when he was like this.

Midas did not speak, but his head tilted ever so slightly in her direction, his hollow stare drilling into her. Another shriek escaped him—this one lower, guttural, and laced with something almost... knowing.

Mnemona’s fury cooled in an instant. Her lips curled into a slow, eerie grin.

“Oh?” she purred, her voice slithering through the heavy air. A name took shape in Mnemona’s mind. —Moraitus.

For a moment, the air in the chamber stilled. Even the storm outside seemed to hesitate, as if the very world held its breath at the mention of that name.

Then, Mnemona threw her head back and laughed.

A sharp, jagged sound, more akin to shattered glass than mirth, spilled from her throat. Her burned form quivered with delight, the echoes of her laughter slithering across the lair like creeping vines.

"Finally," she purred, her yellow eyes alight with cruel satisfaction. "A clue at last... We are so close, my brothers, my sisters. One final piece to complete our brotherhood, and then..." Her voice curled into a whisper. "Elysion will fall.”

She relished the thought—the end of the wretched age of Elysian dominance, the crumbling of their cities, their king brought low, their Order broken beyond repair.

But before she could revel further, another shriek tore through the chamber.

This time, Midas' cry carried something different—another name.

A name that made Mnemona’s grin freeze before stretching even wider. —Ozymand, The Greater Titan of Fallen Civilizations.

He had pledged himself to their cause.

Mnemona's laughter resumed, softer this time, a murmur of twisted delight. "Oh, how fitting," she mused. "The harbinger of ruin himself... offering to track down Moraitus for us.”

Her gaze flickered to the other titans, her burned wings unfurling slightly. "Do you see now? Everything is falling into place. When Moraitus is in our grasp, the brotherhood will be complete.”

The storm outside raged on, howling in defiance, but within the cavern, Mnemona's voice rang clear.

She lifted into the air, drifting toward Motherglare and Doloros, her twisted form casting unnatural shadows against the walls.

"Do not worry, sisters," she murmured, her voice dark and soothing in a way that only deception could be. "We shall have our revenge... including that ombré bitch and the Primordial, too.”

Her voice deepened, her form twisting as if shifting between worlds.

"We will break free from their control... and when we do, they will tremble beneath our feet."

****

——

“She’s awake! She’s awake!”

Cassian burst out of the royal cart, sprinting toward Ellie and Jun’de, who stood watch outside. Her breath came fast, urgency laced in every step.

Inside the cart, Lady Audries stirred, her eyes fluttering open to the warm afternoon light filtering through the curtains. The first face she saw was Rendy’s—his expression a mix of relief and concern as he gently adjusted the damp cloth on her forehead.

“We were in shock, Lady Audries… Are you all right?” he asked softly.

Audries blinked, her gaze unfocused for a moment before she nodded. “I’m fine,” she murmured, though her voice carried a lingering unease. She hesitated, brows furrowing as she tried to grasp at something slipping away from her thoughts. She didn’t remember.

Normally, when her ring activated, the visions came sharp and clear—a glimpse of the future etched into her mind. But this time? Nothing. No memory of what she had just seen. No understanding of what had transpired.

The cart’s entrance parted as Ellie and Cassian stepped inside. Jun’de lingered outside, arms crossed, his sharp gaze locked onto Audries. His mind replayed her cryptic words from before:

“With one wind’s end… another shall rise anew.”

And the way she had pointed at him—what did it mean?

Ellie knelt beside Audries, her voice measured but filled with concern. “How do you feel?”

Audries inhaled deeply before exhaling in quiet resolve. “I’m fine,” she said, straighter now, the weight of unseen knowledge pressing against her even if she couldn’t recall it. Then, her expression darkened. “We should move—quickly, something is coming for us.””

Ellie and Cassian exchanged a glance.

The group nodded and prepared to depart once more. As their cart rolled across the vast grassy expanse of the Kazhamara Plains, the ground beneath them trembled with an ominous rhythm. From the western horizon, a disturbance loomed.

——

Ellie tightened her grip on the reins, urging the horses to move faster. Beside her, Jun’de stood abruptly, gripping the rail of the cart as he narrowed his gaze toward the western sky. His instincts screamed of an approaching threat.

“Keep riding. I’ll hold them off,” he declared. With a flick of his hand, his ring—Dusty Dancer—flared to life. The winds around him surged as he leaped into the air, becoming airborne in an instant, his silhouette soaring toward the incoming danger.

From the cart, Cassian swiftly climbed out, her stance unwavering. She turned to Rendy. “Take care of Lady Audries,” she ordered.

Then, meeting Ellie’s gaze, she added, “Don’t stop. Keep going—I’ll handle anything that Jun’de misses.”

A distant, thunderous growl rumbled through the air.

The sky darkened as massive figures descended—flying golems, their forms twisting through the clouds, closing in fast.