Sienna’s breath caught in her throat.
Replace their world.
Not destroy.
Not conquer.
Not rule.
But something deeper.
Older.
Luciano’s jaw clenched as he took a step forward, the weight of Voss’s words pressing down like a storm. “You better start talking, old man. No more riddles.”
Voss didn’t flinch.
He walked to the far wall, where a locked steel cabinet sat half-buried in dust and time.
With a worn key from his coat, he opened it, revealing a single scroll sealed in wax—red and shaped like a serpent swallowing its tail.
La Verità Nascosta’s original prophecy.
“The version you’ve seen,” Voss said, “was rewritten after the last blood war. Doctored to serve the council’s fear. They wanted control. So they made the sovereign a puppet. The serpent a villain. And the reset…”
