“You have rewritten the End.
Now meet the beginning.”
The words thundered through all planes of existence—across sky, soil, spirit, and blood. The ground trembled beneath Seren’s knees, though not in fear. No. It was awe. The kind that made mountains bow and oceans hush.
Above them, the torn veil between realms gaped wider, the cosmos itself folding like fragile parchment. Stars spiraled and dimmed. The shattered remains of the Book of Endings burned in the Judge’s arms, its pages curling into ash that rained down like silver snow.
And through the broken heavens, it came.
Not falling.
Not flying.
Forming.
Light, yes—but not the same as the radiant glow of Seren’s firstborn. Shadow, yes—but not as ravenous as the power held in the second child. This was before those things. A power
