The paths waited.
They did not beckon.
They did not promise.
They simply existed, etched into the Fold like open veins of possibility.
Three routes.
Three futures.
One drenched in Moonlight and blood.
One burning with collapsing stars and wrath.
And one—quiet, hollow, almost invisible—an absence shaped like a doorway.
I stood at their edge with my heart in my throat.
“Tell me the cost,” I said to the throne-entity.
It regarded the paths like a sculptor studying fractures in stone.
“All returns carry cost,” it replied. “The Moon’s road binds you to its will and to the gods who speak through it. The star-road places you in open war with every celestial order at once. The empty road…”
It paused.
“…returns you without permission.”
My pulse thundered.
“Without permission from wh
