ChronoCore - Pitman, Dave
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ChronoCore: Chronicles of the Abyss - The Shattered Sanctum Chapter 1: The First Fracture The realm of Nethoria lay under a sky of endless twilight, where shadows stretched long and the air was thick with the scent of decay. Once a land of beauty and prosperity, Nethoria had crumbled beneath the weight of dark forces, and now only whispers of its former glory remained. Here, even the winds seemed to sigh with grief, carrying tales of heroes who had fallen to the might of the Abyss. Near the edge of a desolate valley, Kaelen paused, her steel boots sinking slightly into the ashen ground. She…mehr

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ChronoCore: Chronicles of the Abyss - The Shattered Sanctum Chapter 1: The First Fracture The realm of Nethoria lay under a sky of endless twilight, where shadows stretched long and the air was thick with the scent of decay. Once a land of beauty and prosperity, Nethoria had crumbled beneath the weight of dark forces, and now only whispers of its former glory remained. Here, even the winds seemed to sigh with grief, carrying tales of heroes who had fallen to the might of the Abyss. Near the edge of a desolate valley, Kaelen paused, her steel boots sinking slightly into the ashen ground. She brushed her cloak aside, allowing her wings-a once-magnificent pair now singed at the tips and streaked with darkness-to unfurl slightly. Once, she had been a guardian of the Sanctum, the ancient power that held the realms of light and shadow in balance. But now, that power was shattered, and she could feel the tremors of its absence pulsing through the land like an open wound. As she scanned the valley, a flicker of movement caught her eye. From the foggy mists, two figures emerged. The first was cloaked in shadows, his face obscured beneath a hood, but his stance was unmistakably alert, every step calculated. The assassin, Rael, had a reputation across Nethoria, known for his silent approach and sharper-than-steel resolve. Beside him was Bjorn, a towering figure covered in scars, his arms the size of small tree trunks, each movement a testament to strength honed through countless battles. He wore no cloak or mask-Bjorn was a warrior unafraid to face his foes head-on, and his weapon of choice, a massive battle-axe strapped across his back, glinted with a reddish hue, as though it had absorbed the blood of his enemies. Kaelen allowed herself a rare smile. She hadn't expected allies on this journey, much less ones of such reputation. As they drew near, Rael spoke first, his voice low and as steady as a heartbeat. "Kaelen, the rumors are true, then. The Sanctum is gone." She nodded, her expression hardening. "Gone. And with it, the last barrier against the Abyss." Bjorn huffed, his gaze sweeping the desolate landscape. "Then we waste no time. Every passing hour, more of those... things cross into our world. I've already lost two villages on the northern front." The wind shifted, bringing with it an eerie wail that cut through their conversation. Kaelen stiffened, her hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of her sword. From the mists, grotesque shapes began to emerge-twisted beings, their eyes hollow, their bodies misshapen. These were not mere creatures; they were remnants of souls, corrupted by the Abyss, shadows of the beings they once were. "They're here," Kaelen whispered, drawing her sword. "Brace yourselves." Rael slipped into the shadows, his form almost invisible, a ghost among the fog. Bjorn unsheathed his battle-axe with a feral grin, his eyes gleaming with the anticipation of the fight. The twisted beings surged forward, their screeches piercing the night as they closed in on the trio. Kaelen swung her blade, her wings giving her just enough lift to cut through the first wave. Sparks flew as her sword clashed against claws of shadow, the force of her strike sending several of the creatures sprawling. Bjorn bellowed, charging headlong into the fray, his axe cleaving through the dark entities with brutal precision. Each swing seemed to carry the weight of his grief, his fury, his determination to protect what little remained of his homeland. Rael moved like a shadow, his blades finding their marks with silent, lethal efficiency. One moment, he was behind Kaelen, blocking an attack aimed at her back; the next, he was across the field, dispatching another group with cold, unerring precision.
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