The Weight of Carrying a GodbreakKaelion did not stop walking.Stone corridors blurred past as he carried Nyxara through the collapsing heart of Moonscar, her weight light in his arms but heavy everywhere else—in his chest, his spine, his future. Her head lolled against his shoulder, silver light pulsing faintly beneath her skin like a dying ember refusing to go out.“Stay with me,” he muttered, more order than plea.Her breathing was shallow but steady. Alive. Still tethered.Behind them, the chamber groaned again, another deep crack echoing as ancient stone finally surrendered. Dust rolled down the halls in choking waves. Guards scattered, some bowing their heads instinctively as Kaelion passed, others staring like they had just watched the world crack open and didn’t know how to put it back.Which—fair.Outside.The night hit him like a wall.The sky was wrong.The Moon still hung above Moonscar, but it was dimmer now, its silver glow uneven, fractured by spiderweb cracks that had
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