There had never been a sunrise in the Underground.
And yet, one rose now.
Blazing light poured through the fractured stained-glass windows of the Mind Eye cathedral, bending through the shards of colored glass to cast streaks of red, blue, and gold across the stone floor. The air warmed subtly, as if the divine presence behind the light pressed against the Underground's chill. For a moment, the cathedral—usually steeped in shadow and silence—felt suspended in something terrifyingly pure. It wasn't fire. It wasn't a spell. It was brighter. Sharper. Holy.
And in the center of it floated a radiant sigil—the unmistakable seal of the Holy Church of the South.
It cast long shadows over the cobbled floor. Shouts rang out. Robed figures stumbled into view, shielding their eyes as if the light had no right to exist down here. Gasps filled the halls.
"The sky… what the hell is that!?"
"It's not the sky, idiot—it's above the cavern roof!"
