The Terminus of Eldoria.
To call it a location was almost a misnomer. It was the absolute limit of existence, the point where all things concluded and began anew. It was the cage of the Zeythan Dreadfin Race, and the anchor of the great seal itself.
"Now this is god-tier work," Leonidas rumbled, craning his neck. "Way above my pay grade. I couldn't build a seal this magnificent if you gave me a thousand years."
He wasn't exaggerating. The structure before the three brothers defied expectation.
There were no towering magical formations spinning in the sky, no suffocating density of elemental particles. What stood before Orion was simply a temple. The Temple of the Terminus.
Inside, there were no idols to worship, no altars, no furniture, and no attendants. It was a hall of opulent emptiness, luxurious yet desolate.
