Lucy rose from the cold stone floor, his limbs aching, his thoughts even worse.
His mind wasn't racing—it was fragmented. In ten minutes, he'd uncovered more than he could process, yet none of it fit cleanly. It was like being handed shards of a mirror and told to find his reflection.
The human corpses: They shattered the accepted history. Humanity wasn't exiled after the gods were born—at least not in the way they'd been told. But why were they here? And why dead?
The stained glass: It revealed Seraph's Hollow had once belonged to Nyxaris. From the imagery, Lucy guessed Seraphine had fought for the world—and won. But why? What did taking it mean?
The vision: That was the worst of it. Nyxaris hadn't always been a god. She'd once been just a girl, trembling at the edge of some abyss. And someone—someone smiling—had betrayed her.
