MEND ME IF YOU CAN.
His touch lingered on one rune, and suddenly warmth bloomed beneath his palm — faint at first, then searing.
The stone pulsed.
Light spilled from the crack between his fingers, golden and violent, crawling across the wall like veins igniting. Shapes took form — wings unfurled, circles interlocked, two figures spiraling into each other like flame and shadow. And then, beneath the hum of light, a voice spoke — distant, ancient, and heartbreakingly calm:
“When ruin and rebirth are one, the world shall turn inside out.”
Then the glow faded. The walls dimmed to gray. The only sound was the crackle of fire and the wild, uneven rhythm of Soren’s breathing.
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