The light did not explode.
It anchored.
It sank into the stone beneath Elara’s feet, threading through cracks older than language, settling into the Sanctuary’s bones as if it had always been waiting for her to arrive. The hum she’d felt since touching the relic deepened—not louder, not harsher, but steadier. A presence instead of a warning.
The ferals froze.
Not mid-lunge.
Not snarling.
Waiting.
Elara stood at the center of the chamber, breath shallow, palms open at her sides. The glow followed her movements now, a quiet gold that traced the floor with each step she took forward. She could feel the Sanctuary responding—not to force, not to fear—but to intent.
Behind her, Rachel shifted, weapon half-raised, body angled protectively toward Gina. Gina lay slumped against the wall whe
