In the still of night, as the world slept, the ancient temple rose from the earth like a great, stone titan, its every curve and angle etched with the unmistakable symbols of an age long past. The air was heavy with the scent of incense and the flickering light of countless candles cast eerie shadows across the polished marble floors. Within the temple's hallowed halls, a lone figure stood before a massive, glowing obsidian portal, his hands pressed tightly together in prayer. As the figure chanted the ancient words, the air grew thick with a sense of foreboding, as if the very fabric of reality itself were about to be rent asunder. The figure's voice echoed throughout the temple, growing louder and more urgent with each passing moment. His eyes were fixed on the portal, as if willing it to open, to grant him access to the secrets that lay beyond. Sweat beaded on his brow, and his breath came in ragged gasps, but still he continued, oblivious to the world around him. And then,