The door at the end of the corridor opened with a deep groan, revealing a grand chamber beyond. A cold, silvery light bathed the entire room, illuminating stone walls carved with intricate designs that seemed to move and shift as Morganna and Lucian entered. The air was thick with magic, the very atmosphere vibrating with latent power that made the hair on Lucian's arms stand on end.

Morganna stepped forward, her eyes gleaming as she took in the sight before them—a massive stone dais stood in the center of the chamber, and atop it rested an ornate sarcophagus, its surface etched with arcane symbols that glowed faintly. The figure carved into the lid was of a man, his face serene, his hands crossed over his chest, as though he were merely sleeping.

"This is it," Morganna whispered, her voice almost reverent. "The resting place of the Mage of Midnight."

Lucian followed her gaze, his eyes wide. He had heard tales of the Mage of Midnight—a sorcerer who had once wielded power so immense that even the gods had feared him. It was said he had been betrayed by those closest to him, entombed within the Wastes to prevent him from exacting his vengeance. And now, centuries later, Morganna stood at the threshold of his final resting place, ready to claim the power he had left behind.

Morganna turned her head to look at Lucian, her golden eyes flickering with an unreadable emotion. "Do you know what this means?" she asked, her voice soft. "The power contained within this tomb… it is beyond anything you could imagine. It could bring entire empires to their knees."

Lucian swallowed, his throat dry. He had come this far—followed her into the heart of the Wastes, faced the shades, and now stood before the tomb of one of the most powerful beings to ever walk the earth. And yet, he could feel an unease settling within him, a question that gnawed at the back of his mind. "What will you do with it?"

Morganna smiled—a smile that held no warmth, only the promise of dark things to come. "I will bring ruin to those who have wronged me. I will show the world that even the strongest can fall, that power is not to be hoarded but to be wielded. I will make them fear me."

She placed her hand on the sarcophagus, the runes on its surface flaring brightly at her touch. The chamber seemed to pulse in response, the air growing colder as a deep rumble echoed through the room. The carved lid began to shift, moving slowly as if responding to her command.

Lucian watched, his breath caught in his throat, as the sarcophagus opened, revealing the figure within. The Mage of Midnight lay there, his body impossibly well-preserved, as though he had merely been resting. His robes were deep blue, almost black, embroidered with silver thread that seemed to shimmer in the dim light. His face was calm, almost peaceful, his eyes closed.

Morganna leaned over the sarcophagus, her fingers brushing over the mage's chest, her eyes narrowing as she focused. "The power is here, Lucian," she murmured, her voice almost a purr. "Locked away, waiting for someone worthy to claim it."

Lucian felt a shiver run down his spine. He watched as Morganna began to chant, her voice low and rhythmic, the words ancient and filled with a resonance that made his teeth ache. The runes on the mage's robes began to glow, the light spreading slowly, seeping into Morganna's fingers as she drew the power from the mage's body.

The chamber shook, the ground trembling beneath their feet as the magic flowed, filling the air with an electric charge. Morganna's eyes closed, her face twisted in concentration, her body surrounded by a dark aura that grew in intensity. Lucian could feel the power emanating from her, a raw, terrifying force that seemed to thrum in his very bones.

Suddenly, the mage's eyes opened.

Lucian gasped, stepping back, his dagger halfway drawn before he realized what was happening. The mage's eyes were not human—they were pools of darkness, swirling with galaxies of stars, empty yet impossibly vast. They stared at Morganna, who remained unmoving, her gaze locked onto his.

"Who dares awaken me?" the voice of the mage echoed through the chamber, resonant and powerful, though his lips did not move. The words seemed to vibrate through the stone walls, filling every corner of the room.

Morganna didn't flinch. Instead, she smiled, her eyes blazing with determination. "I am Morganna Devereux, and I have come to claim the power you left behind."

The mage's gaze bore into her, and for a long moment, silence filled the room, the tension so thick Lucian felt he could barely breathe. Finally, the mage's voice echoed once more, softer this time, though no less powerful.

"Power comes with a price, Morganna Devereux," he said, his eyes narrowing. "A price you may not be willing to pay."

Morganna's smile widened, her golden eyes filled with a dark, wild light. "I have paid every price there is," she said, her voice unwavering. "I will not be denied."

The mage's gaze shifted, as though assessing her. He turned his head slightly, his dark eyes flicking to Lucian, and Lucian felt his blood turn to ice as the mage's attention fell on him.

"And what of you, companion of Morganna?" the mage asked, his voice softer, almost curious. "Do you share her ambition, her thirst for power? Are you willing to pay the price that such power demands?"

Lucian hesitated, his throat tightening. He looked at Morganna—at the dark aura swirling around her, the hunger in her eyes. He had followed her this far, faced death and darkness by her side, all for the promise of revenge, for the chance to regain what he had lost.

But now, standing here, faced with the reality of what that power entailed, he found himself questioning. The mage's eyes bore into him, waiting, demanding an answer.

Lucian took a deep breath, his gaze steadying. "I will do what must be done," he said finally, his voice firm. "I will see this through."

The mage's dark eyes flickered, and for a moment, Lucian thought he saw something akin to approval in their depths. The mage turned his gaze back to Morganna, the swirling darkness in his eyes intensifying.

"Very well," he said, his voice a whisper that seemed to echo through eternity. "Then take my power, Morganna Devereux. But remember this—power is not without consequence. You will bear the weight of what you seek, and it will test you in ways you cannot yet fathom."

Morganna nodded, her smile never faltering. "I will bear it," she said. "I will bear it all."

The mage closed his eyes, and the light that surrounded Morganna flared, growing blindingly bright. Lucian shielded his eyes, his heart pounding as the chamber seemed to shake apart around them. The air filled with a deafening roar, the power of the Mage of Midnight pouring into Morganna, her body trembling under the force of it.

And then, just as suddenly as it began, the light faded, and silence fell over the tomb.

Morganna stood over the sarcophagus, her eyes glowing with an unnatural light, her entire being radiating power. She looked at Lucian, a triumphant smile spreading across her lips.

"It is done," she said, her voice reverberating with the echoes of the mage's power. "The power of the Midnight Mage is mine."

Lucian took a step forward, his eyes locked on hers. He could feel it—the change in her, the weight of the magic she now wielded. It was overwhelming, terrifying, and yet there was something undeniably alluring about it.

"What now?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Morganna's smile widened, her golden eyes blazing. "Now, Lucian," she said, her voice dripping with anticipation, "we bring the world to its knees."

She turned, her gaze shifting to the door they had come through, her eyes narrowing as she raised her hand. The stone door shuddered, then slowly began to open, revealing the darkness beyond. Morganna stepped forward, her serpent coiling around her feet, her aura of power pulsing in the dim light.

Lucian followed, his heart pounding, the mage's words echoing in his mind. Power comes with a price.

He knew, deep down, that their journey had only just begun—and that whatever lay ahead, it would test them both in ways they could not yet imagine.