[Emma's POV]
The silence in the hidden chamber was absolute, a profound void left in the wake of the scroll’s self-annihilation. The last mote of ancient, blackened ash dissipated into the stale air, leaving behind the stark emptiness of the obsidian pedestal and the crushing weight of my confession. The truth—that my soul had been branded long before I’d ever heard the names Blackwood or Cross—hung between us, a specter more real than any of us.
It was Ryder, ever the pragmatist even in the face of the impossible, who broke the spell. Drawn by a scholar’s ingrained curiosity, he approached the pedestal, his fingers hovering over the smooth, dark stone.
“The heat of the combustion…” he murmured, his voice hushed with a kind of reverent dread. “It wasn’t just the parchment. It scorched t
