The Origin Realm screamed as it began to collapse.
Not with sound.
With absence.
Entire stretches of existence blinked out like dying stars, leaving behind nothing but white void where time itself unraveled thread by thread. The shattered throne floated in fragments, each piece glowing with unstable power, orbiting each other in a pattern that hurt to look at directly.
Luna felt it pulling at her.
Calling her.
Claiming her.
"You feel it," the throne-Luna said calmly, even as the world fell apart around them. "The throne recognizes you. It knows what you could become."
Luna clutched Kael tighter as he groaned weakly in her arms. His breathing was shallow now, each rise of his chest uneven, labored, failing.
The Anchor's Brand was burning him from the inside out.
"He's dying," Luna shouted, pressing her hands to his chest desperately. "Help him!"
