“Seven,” Draven says. His voice doesn’t shake. “Where.” Cael blinks. “Don’t, know, yet, waking, slow.” Rowan sets Lyana and Geralt in their cribs, gentle. “I, feel, them, like, sisters, but, wrong, twisted.” The High Priestess spreads the scroll on the floor. Ink, old, Gerald’s handwriting. “Phase 2: The Seven Thorns, implanted in human wombs across continents, dormant until Hollow King blood hits atmosphere, your birth triggered them.” My birth. Caiden stumbles in, holding his side. “So we killed one war to start another, great.” “No,” I say. “We end it, before it starts.” Ambassador Reed’s radio crackles from downstairs. “Duskbane Keep, we have seven thermal spikes, global, matching Hollow DNA, orders?” Draven takes Cael from me. “Tell the President, the King handles his Thorns, not her.” “Can he,” Reed asks. “He’s hours old.” Cael looks at the radio. “Yes.” One word. The radio dies. Reed runs up the stairs, pale. “All comms, dead, he, did he just—” “He’s King,” I say.
ปรับปรุงล่าสุด : 2026-04-25 อ่านเพิ่มเติม