Long before the city awoke, before the golden light touched its ruins, there was only silence. The Echoveil lay in shadow, its towers broken, its streets empty, save for whispers that drifted through crumbling walls.
A lone figure ran through the alleys, moving faster than the shadows themselves. His name was Alzar, though no one would remember him after that night. He carried a message, a key, a burden-but the darkness followed relentlessly. Every step echoed with fate.