The first pale light of dawn seeped through the fractured stained-glass windows of the city's central hall, scattering shards of color across worn cobblestones. The warmth of morning was a fragile thing here, a brief reprieve from the looming shadows that had begun to twist the city's edges into something uncanny.
Cael stood at the heart of the gathering, surrounded by faces etched with scars — both physical and unseen. Rogue mages, outcasts from the Arcane Order; exiled warriors with haunted eyes; those who walked the fragile line between worlds. Their whispered conversations were laced with suspicion and desperation, each soul burdened by the creeping threat beyond the veil.
Selene, ever the enigma, moved through the crowd with quiet grace, her presence commanding respect even in silence. Her loyalty remained a question mark to many, but her knowledge was undeniable — knowledge that might mean the difference between survival and oblivion.
Cael's voice, steady but carrying the weight of urgency, cut through the murmurs. "The breach is growing. We cannot wait for it to consume us. We must act — together."
A tense silence followed, the air thick with unspoken fears. Alliances here were brittle, forged in necessity rather than trust. Yet as the city trembled beneath unnatural storms and distant rifts whispered with malevolent hunger, there was no choice but to unite.
Plans were drawn in whispered maps and coded sigils, strategies crafted in the flicker of hope and shadows of doubt. Every move would be a gamble against forces beyond mortal reckoning.
As the meeting drew to a close, Cael's gaze met Selene's. In that moment, a fragile pact was sealed — one woven not just of necessity, but of the faintest glimmer of trust.
Outside, the city breathed uneasily, caught between the dying night and the uncertain dawn. The war for the veil's fate had begun, and Cael stood poised at the edge of a blade.