The world was silent, yet it pulsed with ancient breath.
A realm suspended beyond time, where the sky bled amethyst and obsidian clouds moved like sentient beings. Below, there were no forests, no cities, only endless plains of cracked marble veined with molten gold. Obelisks, shattered statues, and half-buried serpents littered the ground like forgotten relics of a pantheon long erased.
In the center of it all, there stood a colossal temple carved into the side of a black mountain—its surface riddled with cracks that hissed steam and whispered in dead languages. The structure was alive. The stone itself trembled occasionally, as if remembering every drop of blood it had tasted through the millennia.
This was the Gorgoneion Sanctum—the place where mortals met the impossible.
