The universe did not hear the cry as sound.
It heard it as orientation.
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The moment the heir’s voice cuts through the negation wave, reality stutters.
Not breaks.
Reorients.
Across realms with no shared sky and worlds that have never known the same stars, something ancient lifts its head for the first time in millennia and whispers the same impossible realization:
The hunger can be answered without being fed.
The shock does not travel outward.
It travels everywhere at once.
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In temples long abandoned by their gods, stone weeps light.
In star-forges sealed since the first cosmic famine, dormant fires reignite on their own.
In shadow-realms built entirely from theft and forgetting, the walls thin with sudden, catastrophic meaning.
Jason watches the universal echo ripple throu
