The eye did not blink. It did not close. It only watched, vast and unyielding, its presence dragging silence across the newborn realm. Even the wind faltered, as though sound itself feared to exist beneath that gaze.
The abominations froze mid-motion, their half-formed bodies bowing deeper, shuddering like worshippers before their god. The rift rippled, its edges bleeding shadows that ate at the sky.
Aria's voice broke first, soft yet sharp. "It is not storm, not trial, not intrusion. This is… recognition." Her wings trembled, not from fear, but from the strain of holding her light steady against the pressure of something that should not yet belong here.
Fenric's flames burned higher, though each flicker seemed to resist being snuffed by the weight pressing down. His jaw tightened. "No. Not recognition. Judgment." His silver gaze lifted into the rift, refusing to bow. "It peers into us as though measuring—whether we are fit to shape what we claim."
