The vale was cloaked in a pale morning mist, tendrils of fog entwining over shattered modes and jagged debris, softening the harsh edges of destruction while amplifying the quiet pressure in the air. Maya stood at the crest, tablet pressed to her casket, sanguine palpitation faint but pertinacious, illuminating the faint outlines of modes and murk that shifted subtly across the terrain. The intelligence bedded in the remnants of the structure