The rift hung above the Hollow Crown like a wound in the sky.
It shimmered with impossible light, violet and white and black all at once, twisting the stars around it, pulling the night into its throat like a greedy god. Snow blew sideways. The wind screamed. And from the pulsing mouth of the rift, the Perfected Heir stepped into the world.
He was tall. Inhumanly so. Clad in armor like obsidian veined with red light. His skin shimmered like cooled metal. His hair was jet-black, slicked back and windless despite the storm. But what struck Seraphine most… were his eyes.
They were Cambria's.
Ice-blue. Piercing. Haunted.
But devoid of warmth.
"Do you know who you are?" Seraphine asked, her voice reverent.
The Heir blinked slowly. The wind around him ceased. The mountain stopped breathing.
"I am memory," he said, voice echoing with something deeper. "I am the echo of vengeance. I am the child of god and ruin."
Seraphine smiled. "Then it's time, my darling."
He turned to her.
