The temptation does not arrive with promises.
It arrives with relief.
⸻
It begins with the elders.
Not the young wolves still burning with purpose.
Not the warriors whose blood still sings at the idea of challenge.
The elders.
Those whose joints ache when the land pulls.
Those who remember three wars too many.
Those who have already given their best years to holding worlds together.
Jason feels the shift before anyone speaks of it.
The guardian lattice doesn’t fracture.
It softens.
He frowns at the arrays, pulse quickening.
“Someone leaned into the offer,” he murmurs.
Zane’s head snaps up.
“Who.”
Jason doesn’t answer immediately.
Because the truth is quieter than betrayal.
“It wasn’t a command,” he says finally.
“It was… acceptance.”
⸻
Old Korrin sits by the southern
