The air did not just grow cold; it grew thin, as if the world itself were holding its breath, waiting for the inevitable crack in the fabric of existence.

The air did not just grow cold; it grew thin, as if the world itself were holding its breath, waiting for the inevitable crack in the fabric of existence.

The War of the End Times did not begin with a trumpet blast, but with a silence so profound it shattered the sanity of the restless. Then, the horizons ignited.