A simple journey across the Great Red Sand turns into a fight for survival when the Traveler and Cyno find themselves caught in an unexpected sandstorm. Blinded by swirling dust and deafened by the howling winds, they have no choice but to press forward, seeking refuge in the ruins of an ancient temple half-buried beneath the dunes.

But something about this place feels wrong.

"We shouldn’t be here," Cyno mutters, his golden eyes scanning the crumbling statues lining the hall. "This place was meant to be forgotten."

As they delve deeper into the temple, strange markings begin to glow along the walls, pulsing with an otherworldly light. Then, without warning, the Traveler feels the ground shift beneath them, and suddenly, they are no longer standing in the same ruin.

The air is different—crisper, untouched by time. The temple is no longer crumbling, but whole, its halls illuminated by torches that were not there before. Voices echo in the distance, speaking a language they don’t understand. And beside them, Cyno stands rigid, his expression unreadable.

Because this is not just a ruin.

They have stepped into a memory—one that does not belong to them.

Figures in ceremonial garb pass through the halls, their eyes filled with purpose and fear. A ritual is being performed at the temple’s heart, a last-ditch effort to seal away something that should never have been awakened. Then, the vision shifts, and the Traveler sees him.

A warrior who looks just like Cyno, yet… different. His posture, his expression, even the air around him carries a weight that is ancient and unyielding. He speaks a vow in a language lost to time, and then—

The vision shatters.

The Traveler stumbles back into the present, gasping for air. The ruins are crumbling once more, dust filling the air. But Cyno remains still, staring at the place where the memory had just played out.

"That was…" he finally breathes, voice barely above a whisper.

The temple begins to collapse around them, forcing them to flee The sands may bury the past..