The Rejected Luna’s Secret Crown
The crack widened as the massive doors slowly groaned inward.
The warm, bioluminescent light of the Eastern Caves spilled over us, washing away the suffocating darkness of the tunnel.
Standing directly in the center of the opening, silhouetted against the glowing crystal pillars, was Drax. The old general was sitting rigidly in his wheelchair, his heavy steel mace resting across his lap. Behind him stood a wall of Northern defenders, their spears leveled, their shields locked.
When Drax saw us battered, covered in blood, and walking on our own two feet, the heavy mace slipped from his lap and clattered onto the stone floor.
Sikat na Kabanata