The towering obsidian gates of the Black Tower loomed before Seth, their jagged edges glistening faintly under the gray sky. Even now, even after all the other Towers he’d set foot in, the sight of this one stirred something in him that nothing else on Earth could. A sense of belonging. Of hunger. Of power.
The guards at the entrance didn’t dare question him. His license gleamed at his chest, its core of light pulsing faintly, and the parchment stamped with crimson runes was proof enough of his clearance. Without a word, Seth stepped through the gates, and the world shifted around him.
The chill hit first—cold, suffocating, carrying with it the stench of blood and brimstone. Then the atmosphere wrapped around him like a living cloak, pulsing, vibrating, recognizing him.
A grin spread ac
