Vask steps closer, voice tight with urgency. "Your Majesty—please. Tell us. What is happening?"
Emperor Varnen sits very still. The weight of the room seems to rest on his shoulders; the lines in his face are sharper, his eyes ringed with sleepless hollows. He breathes once, a long, tired inhale, then begins.
"It started last week," he says, each word careful. "I called a meeting with the Spears to coordinate a response, how we push back the invasion. Suddenly, the portal that links our continent to the main one… it began acting strange. Flickering, spitting raw mana."
Varnen's hands curl slowly into fists on the arms of his chair. His voice grows heavier with each word.
"As soon as I reached the chamber, the portal was gone—shattered, like it had never been whole. And there he was. That man… Vernoso. Lying on the ground, bleeding, broken. At first, we thought he was a victim of the collapse."
