The celebration on the 40th Earth was cut short by a signal that made the Needle’s leaves turn a sharp, metallic silver. At the Sentinel Gate, a rip in the golden shimmer had formed, and through it stepped a figure that looked like he was carved from a falling star. He carried a weapon that hummed with the heat of a dying sun—a Sun-Blade that bled white fire onto the jade floors of the harbor.
"I am Kaelen of the Prime Earth," the stranger announced, his voice echoing like a cathedral bell. "I have come for the one they call the Voice of the Root. My world does not accept a 'Squire' as the anchor of the 99. If he cannot best the Star-Spear’s legacy, the Gate will be reclaimed by the Prime."
Xin stood at the far end of the plaza, his gold-laced gauntlet pulsing in rhythm with the Needl
