The Hollow Court’s new leadership made itself known on a Thursday.
Not through representatives or messages. Through a specific kind of action that communicated its intention more efficiently than either: three of the secondary fault lines in the Ashwood Court’s south quarter collapsed simultaneously, not closed, not healed, collapsed inward, the kind of artificial acceleration that required significant blood witch power applied with the specific intention of causing harm.
I felt it through my sleep.
I was on my feet before I was awake, and the pain of three fault lines being forced rather than healed moved through me like something physical, which was an indication of how far the convergence had progressed, how thoroughly the fault lines had become part of my body’s awareness.
I reache
