The presence did not rush forward.
It unfolded.
Space did not tear for it space made room.
The fractures widened into vast, arching corridors of nothingness, and through them emerged a form so immense that Elara’s mind refused to grasp it all at once. She could only perceive pieces: a curvature like a horizon, layers of shifting shadow and light interwoven, patterns that felt less seen than remembered.
This was not void.
This was ownership.
The Devourer bowed.
Chains clattered as it lowered its massive head, voice dropping to a reverent murmur. “The First Claimant,” it said. “I thought you were gone.”
“I was,” the presence replied not aloud, but everywhere. “Until something called me back.”
Its attention turned slow, inevitable toward Elara.
The pressure was unlike anything befor
