Rhea stood in the shadow of the valley's main keep, its bone walls dusted with fresh snow, the late morning light casting a soft glow over the western valley. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of woodsmoke and damp earth, as survivors and Kin bustled through the central square—hauling grain, mending tents, and tending fires. Kael was gone, leading his team toward the southern ruin, and the weight of his absence settled on her shoulders like a heavy cloak. Her flames flickered faintly at her fingertips, a quiet comfort, but her heart churned with doubt. She wore no armor, only a thick woven tunic, her auburn hair loose, catching the wind. Kael's love anchored her, Lyra's fire lingered in her memory, but the valley's fragile unity tested her resolve. She brushed a hand over the ground, feeling the faint pulse of Kael's golden veins, their warmth a distant echo of his EX: Gold Dominion, steadying her.