The Forsaken's words echoed in the chamber long after the glow of the seal began to fade.
"Then stay. And be rewritten."
A command. A promise. A threat. I couldn't tell the difference anymore. Not with the way the Codex pulsed in my palm like it had found a new rhythm—no longer separate from me, but syncing with each beat of my heart.
Cairon's hand gripped mine harder, as if afraid I might disappear. I didn't blame him. I felt like I was unraveling in slow motion—becoming something else. Something not entirely mine.
"I'm not leaving," I whispered to him, more for myself than for him. "Not this time."
He didn't answer. His eyes were still fixed on the Forsaken, who stood at the edge of the shattered seal like a priest overseeing a ritual that had already gone too far.
"You've made your choice," the Forsaken said, voice heavy with something older than disdain. "You will not be the same when you walk out of here… if you walk out at all."
