Argus and Panoptes. The twin sentinels of the northern gate of Calma.
Now they stood like broken guardians — the last surviving remnants of what had once been the beating heart of the Azurverdan Empire.
Her empire. Hers… and Alaric's.
Time had stripped them bare. Stone weathered. Towers fractured. Vines crawling where banners once flew.
But even in ruin, their presence commanded the horizon.
Lara slowly closed her eyes. For a moment, the present loosened its grip. And she willed the past to return.
At first there was only silence.
And the ruin rebuilt itself.
The shattered towers rose again in her mind — tall, seamless, and impossibly smooth, their pale surfaces gleaming beneath the sun like blades drawn from marble.
Between them stood the iron gates. Black. Massive. Unyielding.
Not rusted relics, but weapons forged to guard an empire.
The surrounding walls stretched outward across the land like the crown of a sleeping king — immense, absolute, and impossible to breach.
