Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Gravity of the Void.
The world did not just end; it unmade itself. The floor of the Obsidian Hall, once the solid foundation of Shifter law, vanished into an infinite, hungry maw of absolute nothingness. The violet sky was swallowed by a blackness so dense it felt like a physical weight pressing against my eyes. I was falling, yet there was no sensation of movement, only the terrifying realization that the air had been replaced by the breath of a dead god. The Silver Host, the thousands of warriors who had been synchronized into Elias's perfect hive, were gone—not killed, but simply erased from the immediate equation as the Void claimed the space they occupied.
