Precursor Genesis: The Haunting Moon of the Fallen Lords
The twin suns of Oban beat down, baking the crimson sands. Will Vandom wiped a layer of red dust from her brow, her hand resting near the pulsing Heart of Kandrakar. Traversing a barren alien planet on a cosmic rescue mission was hard enough, but doing it with her brother and sister made the tension unbearable. "I'm telling you, we should have turned west at the salt flats," Will said, casting a sharp look at her older brother. Prince Phobos scoffed, adjusting his scavenged desert gear to keep the glare out of his cold, analytical eyes. "And I am telling you, sister, your instincts are governed by impatience, not geography. If we had gone west, we’d be trapped in a chasm." "Stop it, both of you," Queen Elyon interjected, her voice carrying the quiet authority of Meridian's throne, even wrapped in dusty desert robes. She studied a faint hologram projected from a cracked piece of crystalline Precursor tech. "We’ve been separated since Cedric ban...