I stared at the black sword, then down at my own hand. The rune was still there, a single, complex dark mark etched into my palm—a permanent souvenir from the absolute worst day of my life.
"There's a second, smaller fragment of me—the rune on your palm—that I need to absorb." Greed's voice still echoed in my head.
It was a terrible deal. Giving an ancient, hostile, god-level fragment more of itself was just asking for trouble. Greed was already too powerful, too arrogant. Handing over another piece of its essence felt like giving a tiger a second set of teeth. But my other option was nothing. Zero answers. Just walking away with a half-cocked history, knowing I was the nexus of some ancient cosmic war involving a rival named Arkadius. I couldn't do that. I needed the full map, no matter the cost.
