The silence that followed the boy’s words was heavy, thick with the scent of ozone and the damp earth of a world that had forgotten how to breathe. The shard of the mask in the child's hand didn't just reflect the morning light. It seemed to drink it, creating a small, localized void that warped the air around his fingers.
Lucien took a hesitant step forward, his own heart hammering against his ribs. The bond, usually a steady hum, turned into a chaotic, piercing shriek. Selene, Nyra, and Seraphina moved in a reflexive V-formation around him, their instincts screaming that the threat had not vanished. It had merely changed its shape.
"Child," Lucien said, his voice struggling to find its authority. "Who told you to say that? Where did you find that shard?"
The boy didn't blink. The gold
