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The imposing Cathedral of Lumina rose above the city like a beacon of hope. Its gothic towers pierced the sky, and the stained glass windows cast vivid colors on the stone floor, as if divine light was ever-present. For Elara, every corner of that place was sacred. Since she could remember, she had dedicated her life to the church, embracing vows of devotion, purity, and service. She was known for her unwavering faith and her serene presence, which inspired everyone around her.

That morning, Elara was participating in a solemn ritual at the main altar. The air was perfumed with incense, mingling with the harmonious voices of the choir. As the priests chanted hymns, Elara felt an unusual peace in her heart. However, something unexpected happened. As the silver chalice was raised to consecrate the wine, a gust of wind swept through the cathedral, extinguishing the candles and bringing a chill that made everyone exchange uneasy glances.

Kneeling, Elara felt a shiver run down her spine. The wind seemed to whisper something in her ears, but she couldn't make out the words. Opening her eyes, she saw the stained glass projections forming unusual shadows on the floor. For a moment, she thought she saw a hooded figure among them, but when she blinked, the vision vanished.

After the ritual, Elara tried to shake off the discomfort, but the sensation lingered. Throughout the day, she felt a weight in her chest, as if something invisible was watching her. She decided to seek solace in prayer, but as she knelt before a small side chapel, she heard the whisper again. This time, it was clearer: "Elara..."

She stood up abruptly, looking around. The chapel was empty. Feeling confused and slightly frightened, she decided to walk through the cathedral's corridors to calm her mind. Her footsteps echoed on the ancient stones, and the candlelight flickered on the walls. That's when her eyes caught something peculiar: a door ajar in a wing that should have been locked.

Elara hesitated. That part of the cathedral was forbidden. Since joining the church, she had been instructed never to cross those doors. Stories were told that secrets of the faith's oldest truths were kept there, protected by generations of clerics. Yet something inside her-perhaps the same voice she had heard-seemed to call her forward. Against her better judgment, she pushed the door open.

The creak of the hinges echoed like a muffled scream. Beyond it lay a spiral staircase descending into the depths of the cathedral. The air was denser there, heavy with dust and dampness. Elara descended slowly, holding a candle she had found near the entrance. Each step felt colder than the last, and the silence was broken only by the sound of her breathing.

After what felt like an eternity, she reached the bottom of the staircase. What she found was a massive wooden door, dark and adorned with faintly glowing runes. Elara's heart raced. The runes seemed to pulse in response to her presence, as if they recognized something within her. Before she could think better of it, the door opened on its own, revealing a vast underground chamber.

The hall was impressive, despite its state of ruin. Gigantic pillars supported the vaulted ceiling, and the floor was covered in worn mosaics depicting battles between angelic figures and shadowy creatures. At the center stood a stone altar surrounded by intricate magical circles etched into the floor with supernatural precision. And there, in the middle of the altar, a hooded figure knelt, bound in chains and cloaked in shadows.

"Elara..." the voice called again, now clearly coming from the figure. It was deep yet seductive, laden with an authority that made her skin prickle.

She took a step forward, unable to resist the pull she felt. When the figure raised its head, the hood revealed a face seemingly carved in perfection, with eyes that glowed like embers. Despite his menacing appearance, there was something hypnotic about him.