Ryan felt the sky split open before he saw it.
A sound like breaking glass echoed across the fields, and the air grew thick and heavy, pressing against his lungs. The figure on the horizon raised its hand, and the crack in the sky widened, spilling light that was neither silver nor black—something older. Something that had been waiting.
The Keeper stepped forward, its ancient form trembling.
"It cannot be. The First was sealed. The First was forgotten."
The figure on the horizon began to walk.
With each step, the ground shook. With each step, the fragments screamed. With each step, the silver door pulsed wildly, its light flickering like a candle in a storm.
Ryan's scar blazed. "What is it?"
The Keeper's voice was barely a whisper.
"The Creator. The one who made the mirrors. The on
