The chamber was a cathedral of pressure and dying light.
Cael landed at the edge of the seal, Hollow Dominion cushioning the drop, the spatial domain snapping outward to read the battlefield. The chamber was vast, the ceiling lost in shadow, the walls lined with bioluminescent veins that pulsed with the frantic rhythm of a heart approaching failure. The seal covered the entire floor, interlocking Record symbols blazing white-hot at the edges, the cracks between them bleeding light so bright it hurt to look at directly.
And at the centre, his father was fighting.
Aldren Voss moved through the seal's glow like a man who had been doing this for twenty years and had stopped counting the days somewhere in the first decade. His grey hair was plastered to his skull with sweat. His hands traced
