The twisted remains of the Blighted Plains stretched endlessly before them, the faint green glow of corruption staining the horizon. The sisters moved cautiously, their every step calculated as they neared the hidden sanctuary marked by the shadowed figure’s retreat. The air was heavy with the scent of decay, and the oppressive mist clung to their skin like a second layer.

  “Whatever’s waiting for us in there,” Nyssa whispered, scanning the uneven ground for traps, “it doesn’t want us to leave alive.”

  “No turning back,” Rhea said firmly, her grip tightening on her greataxe. “If that artifact is as powerful as the clerics said, we can’t let it fall into their hands.”

  Eira adjusted her spear, her sharp eyes darting toward the jagged silhouette of a ruin looming through the mist. “I don’t like this place. It feels… alive.”

  “It probably is,” Zarya said quietly, her amber eyes reflecting the faint glow of her shard. “This corruption—it’s not just spreading. It’s reacting to us.”

  As they approached the sanctuary, the structure came into focus: a half-collapsed temple built into the side of a rocky outcropping. Faint runes flickered on the weathered stone, their light pulsing faintly in rhythm with Zarya’s shard. The entrance, a gaping maw of shadow, exuded a chilling energy.

  Nyssa held up a hand, signaling the group to stop. “Tracks,” she said, crouching low to examine the ground. “Fresh. At least a dozen, maybe more.”

  “They’re inside,” Vira muttered, stepping forward to shield the group with her enchanted buckler. “Let’s not give them the chance to ambush us.”

  The sisters fanned out, their movements careful but deliberate. As they entered the sanctuary, the temperature dropped, and an eerie silence enveloped them. The air seemed to vibrate with an unseen force, and the faint sound of whispers echoed from deep within.

  “It’s the same as the obelisk,” Zarya murmured, clutching her quarterstaff. “That same… pressure.”

  “We’re not alone,” Lira hissed, her flaming whip sparking to life as she eyed the darkened corners of the chamber.

  From the shadows, a guttural growl rumbled, and figures began to emerge. Twisted clerics, their bodies warped by corruption, stumbled into view. Their eyes glowed with the same sickly green light, and their hands crackled with unstable magic.

  The corrupted clerics lunged forward, their movements erratic yet unnervingly coordinated. Rhea met the charge head-on, her greataxe cleaving through the corrupted ranks with brutal precision. Vira held the line beside her, her warhammer smashing into the ground to create a shockwave that sent several enemies sprawling.

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  “Keep them off balance!” Nyssa called, her arrows striking true as she aimed for non-lethal hits to disable the clerics. “We need to buy time to figure out what’s going on here.”

  Zarya stood at the center of the group, her shard pulsing in response to the magic around her. The corrupted forces hesitated, their glowing eyes flickering as if caught in a trance. But the hesitation didn’t last.

  “They’re drawn to the shard,” Nala said, her voice strained as she healed a wound on Lira’s arm. “It’s like it’s calling to them.”

  Zarya gritted her teeth. “Then I’ll give them something to answer.” She raised her quarterstaff, unleashing a burst of fire that engulfed the nearest wave of attackers. The flames danced across the sanctuary’s walls, illuminating the intricate runes that lined the chamber.

  “Enough games,” a distorted voice echoed from the shadows.

  The sisters turned to see the corrupted cleric leader stepping into the light. His robes, once white and pristine, were now darkened and frayed, pulsating with the same energy that radiated from the obelisk. The artifact, now bound to his chest with crude, magical bindings, glowed brighter as he raised his hand.

  “You cannot stop what has already begun,” the leader intoned, his voice reverberating unnaturally. “The shard, the obelisks, the corruption—they are all part of the same truth.”

  Zarya’s shard flared violently, sending a jolt of energy through her body. She staggered, clutching her side as a vision overtook her: a twisted world consumed by corruption, with the obelisks glowing like beacons in the darkness. The shard in her vision burned brighter, spreading its tendrils of power until nothing remained untouched.

  “Zarya!” Rhea’s voice cut through the haze, grounding her.

  The leader raised his hand, and the runes on the walls erupted with light. A barrier of energy surged toward the sisters, forcing them to retreat. “You will not claim what belongs to us!” the leader roared.

  Rhea snarled, stepping forward. “This isn’t over.”

  “We can’t fight them here,” Nyssa said, her voice urgent. “They’re using this place against us.”

  Rhea hesitated, then gave the order. “Fall back! We’ll regroup and find another way.”

  As the sisters retreated, the corrupted clerics swarmed to protect their leader, the artifact’s glow pulsating ominously. The sanctuary seemed to groan in protest as the sisters left, its runes dimming once they were gone.

  Outside, the sisters regrouped, their breaths heavy and their expressions grim. The shadowed sanctuary loomed behind them, its secrets and threats left unresolved.

  “We’re losing time,” Vira said, slamming her warhammer into the ground. “That artifact is making them stronger.”

  “We’ll stop them,” Rhea said, her voice firm. “But we need more than strength. We need answers.”

  Zarya looked toward the distant horizon, her shard faintly pulsing in time with the artifact’s glow. “The obelisks… they’re part of this. If we’re going to stop them, we need to understand what we’re fighting.”

  Nala stepped forward, her voice quiet but resolute. “Then we’ll find those answers together.”

  As the sisters turned their gaze back toward the corrupted sanctuary, the whispers of the shard echoed faintly in Zarya’s mind, promising both power and ruin.