Yoyomi

Yoyomi scrambled up the last crystalline face, the setting sun refracting through the monoliths into a thousand blinding colours. The memory of Horoguramu’s vision was still sharp: water swirling to show this very peak, a sky filled with falling light, and a sound like the world cracking in two. That was three days ago. A tremor suddenly shook the rock, sending a shower of razor-edged shards down. The spines on Yoyomi’s pufferfish helm instantly shot out, a defensive sphere deflecting the deadly rain. Reaching the summit, they saw it. Across the valley, the largest of The Crystal Highlands of Armaria’s monoliths pulsed with a faint, sickly light, a fissure already creeping up its side. The vision hadn't shown them how to stop it.