The Prism Vale

They said the Prism Vale was a myth—a fairytale spun by starmaps and children’s lullabies. But as Elyon stepped through the final Riftgate, breath stolen by the brilliance before him, he knew the stories had barely done it justice.

Crystal towers pierced the sky like rainbow-hued titans, their surfaces pulsing faintly with ancient energy. Rivers of liquid light ran between them, whispering secrets to those who dared to listen. Somewhere within this kaleidoscopic dream was the Beacon Core—a shard of memory left behind by the last Dream Architects.

And Elyon, the last of the Riftborn, had come to claim it.

He didn’t know if the Vale would welcome him.

But it had waited long enough.