------------------------- ©neural_noise 2026 Please consider listening to the album "Desert Dreams - Revisited" from the start in order to experience the whole journey! This project has been months in the making. I hope you will enjoy it as much as I enjoyed generating it and making sure it is of the highest quality possible! If you would like to connect with me or show appreciation, please visit the links on my SUNO profile. ------------------------- As the two heroes reach the remenants of The Great Hall of Wizards, a blinding flash makes both of them fall to the ground and in their slumber they see flahses of corpses, suffering and destruction. A dark and asertive voice yells: - You never should have come here! - Who is that? We haven't come so far for nothing. Show yourself! - All you deal in is hate and destruciton. You just had to know didn't you? Mother, son. It is all the same to me! Fruit born from the same rotten core! - Son?! ... Yes! Now it all makes sense! Words are barely spoken as a large serpent creature almost hits both of them, but they duck out of the way just in time. Their heads start to hurt simoultaneously as the creature is repositioning for another strike. A calm voice can be heard: - Look towards yourselves. Know yourselves and trust in your strength! The creature strikes again throwing then in different directions. At first the fight seems hopeless as the wizard tries various spells and tricks, but nothing seems to work. - Fools! Why fight what you already sought? Accept your fate! The calm voice says: - Together you are one and only! You must heal the wounds which you have brought upon yourselves! The woman look towards the wizard and now finally understood. She instantly grabs his wand. - What are you doing? - Healing the wounds we have caused! With all her strength she charges up the largest healing spell she had ever attempted. Understanding the message, the wizard assists as well. A powerful healing ray hits the creature as it is about to strike and they both collapse in exhaustion.
