The "Sacrifice Ruins" or "Frontier Ruins" as they called them, were still today a mostly secret and respected dangerous place.
Their ancient security mechanisms were more complex, more lethal, more... deliberate. As if they weren't designed to guard wealth like the others.
But to guard something that only the truly powerful should manage.
Or know.
Maybe knowledge too dangerous for those who lacked strength to wield it responsibly. Secrets that would corrupt weaker minds or destroy those who tried to use them without proper preparation.
The Starweaver's one was a ruin that had two clearly defined sections. Two ways to enter. Two paths that eventually converged in... something.
Nobody knew what.
The vast Starweaver territory had divided those two tasks. The Day faction took one path. The Night faction took the other.
Each advancing through trials on their side, breaking barriers when they reached necessary power or solving riddles when they found the keys.
