The Crack

The wail still haunted their dreams, a chilling echo that reverberated from the depths of their souls. The moment the earth trembled beneath their feet, the sky darkened as if in mourning, and the Crack tore through the land—a deep, jagged wound that split the world apart—was forever etched into their minds. In that moment, everything changed. The old world began its slow, agonizing death, and all who inhabited it were left adrift in a sea of fear and uncertainty.   The Crack was more than just a physical rupture; it was the shattering of reality itself. No one knew its cause—some whispered it was the wrath of forgotten gods, others believed it was the consequence of forbidden magic, or perhaps a curse unleashed by the greed of mortals. But those were just stories, attempts to make sense of the senseless. All that mattered was that the world they once knew was now broken beyond repair, and survival was no longer guaranteed.   In the midst of this chaos, when hope seemed like a distant memory, a figure emerged from the shadows—an Eldritch Warden. Their appearance was as unsettling as it was reassuring. Cloaked in robes that seemed to shift and writhe like the shadows themselves, the Warden’s face was obscured, their eyes glowing with an ancient, unfathomable power. They spoke with a voice that resonated deep within the minds of those who heard it, bypassing words and connecting directly to their thoughts.   "The portals," they said, "are your only chance."   These portals—massive, ancient structures adorned with symbols that pulsed with forgotten magic—had appeared overnight, as if summoned by the world’s desperation. To some, they were a miracle; to others, a trap. But to all, they were the last hope. The Elves, with their deep connection to the arcane, long lives and longer memories, claimed these were the very gateways that brought their ancestors to this realm aeons ago. Now, they would serve as the means to leave it. Starting The First Migration      "Come," the Warden urged, their voice a gentle command. "The time has come to leave this dying world behind. Step through and seek a new beginning. Rediscover hope where none remains."   They stood at the precipice, the choice before them stark and unforgiving. Behind them, the world continued its death throes, the Crack yawning wider with each passing moment. Before them lay the portal, shimmering with the promise of escape but also the uncertainty of what awaited on the other side.   Would they step through, embracing the unknown in search of a future, or would they remain, resigned to the inevitable end of all things?   The decision was theirs, but the truth was clear: either path carried its own kind of death. One was certain, the other uncertain. Which would they choose?