The Sanctum was heavy with silence. The world pressed down on Elira and Kael, its crushing weight bearing down upon their shoulders as if the cataclysmic crash of the Rift's downfall was a monumental burden to the universe. The air was heavy with tension, an oppressive pressure building up like a rents tear ripped open in the very fabric of things. Kael's face was unyielding and stood at Elira's shoulder, staring at the shattered silhouette of the Keeper's dead body. Yet beneath his emotionless exterior, a storm brewed in his eyes.
"What now?" Elira dared to ask, the question breathing on the whisper of stillness. She sensed the ponderous question suspended between them, the air as though it also held its breath.
Kael did not answer. He just stood, staring at the Keeper's body, as though the dead man could give them the answers they so desperately sought. His jaw was tight, his fists clenched at his sides, but his face was calm.
