The Vein Horizon was a wound in perception, a beautiful, terrible truth that made the eyes water and the soul ache. The spiraling columns of gold and blue light weren't just power; they were a statement of existence, a declaration that the celestial and the terrestrial were not two things, but one. The Tribunal's grey platform, with its skeletal gantries and spidery conduits, was a blasphemy scribbled over a sacred text.
Ren’s new gravity held the group firm against the vertigo of the sight. His plan, formed in the quiet furnace of his merged soul, was simple, audacious, and desperate.
“We cannot assault the platform directly,” he said, his voice a low thrum that resonated with the Horizon’s hum. “Their defenses will be concentrated there. Valerius expects a frontal assault. He expects t
