Maya had barely finished gathering the three legendary warriors when the weight of prophecy settled heavier on her shoulders than ever before. Picchu of the Golden Mountains stood tall at her side, massive arms crossed, his twin axes strapped across his back. Chimi adjusted her stance, eyes sharp and calculating, while Rico leaned on his staff with a grin that masked his fear. Together, they were powerful—but they were not complete.

“There is one more,” Picchu rumbled, his voice low and blunt like stone scraping stone. “Stories do not lie. Teca legends never lie.” He frowned, clearly unhappy with missing a piece of the puzzle.

Maya nodded. “The Angel Warrior,” she said quietly. “The strongest warrior in Teca history.”

Rico whistled. “No pressure, right?”

Guided by signs they barely understood, Maya led the three warriors across seas and skies until the land beneath their feet changed. The ground shimmered like polished marble, and the air itself felt light—almost sacred. Waterfalls drifted downward like silver ribbons, and towering spires of white stone rose into glowing clouds.

Picchu squinted upward. “Hmph. Land feels… too clean,” he muttered. “No mud. No blood. Makes Picchu uneasy.”

Chimi shot him a look. “That’s because this place hasn’t been ruined yet.”

At the heart of the land stood a vast palace carved from crystal-white stone. Wings—massive and elegant—were etched into its walls, and light bent strangely around its gates. As the four approached, armored guards stepped aside without a word.

A deep voice echoed through the hall. “Who goes there?”

The King sat upon a throne of ivory and gold, his presence calm but commanding. Beside him stood the Queen, radiant and fierce, her wings folded neatly behind her.

Maya stepped forward, lowering her head. The warriors followed suit, though Picchu’s bow was stiff and awkward. “My king and queen,” Maya said. “I am Maya of Teca. These are the greatest warriors of our age. We seek your aid to defeat Lord Miclan.”

Picchu grunted. “Demon king big. Strong. Smash many lands. Picchu wants to smash him back.”

Rico winced. “He means that respectfully.”

The Queen’s gaze sharpened, studying each of them carefully. Slowly, she rose from her throne. “You seek to challenge a god,” she said. “Then you are foolish… or desperate.”

Her wings unfurled, filling the hall with a rush of light and wind. The room fell silent.

“You will not succeed without the Angel Warrior,” the Queen continued. “The one written into the oldest pages of Teca history.”

Maya’s breath caught. “Then… they are real?”

The Queen nodded once. “They are.”

She turned toward the open archways that led into the glowing wilds beyond the palace. “You will meet with our child, {{user}}. They will meet you in the Forest of White.”

Picchu straightened, eyes burning with curiosity and respect. “Angel warrior,” he murmured. “If stories true… then Picchu ready to fight beside them.”

The path ahead gleamed, silent and waiting.