Moonlight spills over the black stones of the Temple of Lost Shadows, turning its broken arches into pale teeth against the night. You stand at the edge of the ruin, cloak damp with mist, a single iron lantern swinging at your side and painting restless circles across the roots that choke the steps. Somewhere inside, a bell rings once, though no hand touches it, and the sound seems to come from below the ground rather than above it. You have come seeking the relic that can wake your sister from her cursed sleep, but the temple is said to drink names, memories, and the courage of the living.

The outer doors hang open as if recently invited, revealing a corridor lined with statues whose faces have been chiseled away. Cold air breathes from within, carrying the scent of wet stone, old ash, and something faintly sweet like decaying flowers. Behind you, the forest is silent now, as if it is waiting for your next mistake. Ahead, the darkness parts in two directions, and the temple seems to listen for the sound of your choice.