The glow of the Key faded into his palm, but the ring did not still. Its surface flared with black and silver light, spilling threads of energy into the air like veins of living ink. They stretched outward in all directions, weaving together until the night sky above was rewritten with a map not of land, but of power.
Ren stared upward. The stars themselves seemed to warp, overlaid by a shifting lattice of mana currents. The lines twisted and coiled, converging into glowing points that pulsed like beating hearts. Dozens of them blinked faintly across the phantom map, scattered across continents, but most flickered weakly, unstable and restless.
The ground trembled beneath his feet. Each pulse from the brightest point resonated through him, striking like a drumbeat in his chest. His ring responded in kind, locking onto the rhythm, a tether forming between his body and that place.
