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		Location: Stronghold of Dogfalls                                                      Interactions: None
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The sound came first. There wasn't a shouting voice, nor the rumbling of thunder, but a ringing resonance, like sunlight caught in crystal—vibrating through the cracked bones of the land. The surrounding Grim paused, their snarls faltering into a confused silence, heads tilting toward the source.

And then the air split open.

A lance of gold tore through the veil of night, not from above, there was no sky to break through or stars to lend her their strength,but from within the black itself. It carved the shadows with divine defiance, slamming into the blighted earth with a scream of holy fire. The impact burst like a thunderclap. Black ash surged into the air, curling in agony. The Grim shrieked and recoiled, but not from heat, but from something far worse: Hope.

[i]She[/i] stepped through the smoke.

Her boots kissed the blackened ground with reverence. Her armor shimmered with a pale, internal heat—white and gold catching in every fractured reflection like light remembered from a better age. Her hair, soft rose-gold, rippled like a banner in a wind none could feel. And behind her were wings. Not real ones, but streaks of incandescent brilliance that burned through the dark like memory: a star’s echo set ablaze.

She did not speak, at least not yet. Her hand lowered, palm open toward the writhing horde, and her eyes lit like twin suns—small, fierce, and unrelenting. They charged her anyway. Twenty. Then thirty. Limbs too long. Mouths too wide. The Grim shrieked like rusted iron and surged as one—convinced, as always, that light would fail.

Nova closed her eyes. [color=#ebcd7a]"Aleathen… I am the last light. Let me burn for them."[/color] When she exhaled, it came as a whisper, but the world heard her.

[u][b]Ability Trigger: Purity Nova.[/b][/u]

Suddenly, she erupted. There was no warmth or mercy for these fiends. Only radiance, a searing wave of gold and white that detonated outward from her core like the rebuke of a forgotten god. The first wave of Grim were vaporized where they stood, twisted into ash mid-scream. Those behind howled and writhed, flesh unraveling like parchment in flame.

When the brilliance faded, she stood in the heart of a crater, shoulders rising with every breath, her glow still clinging to her skin like embers to coal. She looked for any remaining survivors and spoke. [color=#ebcd7a]“I’m here now,”[/color] she said, voice low but clear, unwavering. [color=#ebcd7a]“You are not alone.”[/color]