Morning came quickly—too quickly for Inigo, who had barely slept. The image of the rift was burned into his mind, replaying again and again like a scene refusing to fade.
The spiraling red gate. The silence. The hum. The chill.
It had changed something in him.
So by the time the first light of dawn warmed the stone streets of Elandra, he was already up, dressed, and heading toward the plaza fountain outside the Adventurer's Guild. That's where he found Lyra, arms crossed, cloak wrapped around her shoulders. She looked up as he approached.
"You're early," she said.
"So are you."
"Didn't sleep much."
"Neither did I."
They entered the guild together. The place was quieter than usual—more tense. Word of the rift had spread overnight. More adventurers were gathered than usual, most of them eyeing the mission board or muttering about rift-class threats.
Elise was already at her post behind the counter. She spotted them and gave a small wave.
"Morning, you two."
