The First Heir.
Alive.
I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. The world narrowed to the figure before me, standing with the eerie stillness of something that no longer belonged to this world but refused to leave it.
Cairon shifted beside me, his grip on his blade tightening, but he didn't strike. He was watching. Waiting.
For what?
For me to react.
The man tilted his head, his gaze locking onto me as if peeling back my very existence layer by layer. "You finally hear it, don't you?" His voice was smooth, deceptively calm, but it carried an unnatural weight—like it didn't just exist in the present but echoed through time itself.
I opened my mouth, but no words came out.
I did hear it. The Codex was pulsing against my palm, whispering, humming in a language I didn't know, yet somehow understood.
Cairon stepped forward, placing himself slightly in front of me. "You shouldn't be here." His tone was sharper than I'd ever heard it, edged with something dangerously close to fear.
