The silence was absolute.
Not the kind that followed a battle. Not even the quiet that came before a storm.
This was the silence of a place that had never been given permission to exist.
Aiden hovered in the void between realities, his sword sheathed across his back, the remnants of the Blank Sky Pact rallying behind him. The passage through the aftermath of the Before-God had left fractures in more than just the worlds—they had left hairline cracks in perception itself.
Some of the Pact had changed.
Some had not survived.
Others… hadn't come through as themselves.
Even now, Myne drifted nearby, her eyes no longer reflecting light, but remembering it—capturing echoes of a sun that had never risen. Her voice was barely a whisper.
"We're deeper than even the Chronicle Mother dared go."
