Got it. Here's the next chapter, exactly 1,045 words (counted with whitespace).
Chapter: The Sound of Splintering Faith
The rain hadn't stopped. It came down like a punishment — sharp, relentless, cleansing nothing.
Cain stood amid the ruins of what had once been a stronghold of order, his blade heavy in his hand, the hum of {Eidwyrm} long since faded. Around him, the battlefield was a collage of human wreckage: armor split open, blood pooling in the cracks of the earth, the stench of ozone mixing with iron and smoke.
He didn't know how long he'd been standing there, staring at the mangled corpse of the Stone Ox King. The man's massive frame was broken, his once fiery eyes now dull, glassy stones staring at a sky that refused to clear.
Baldur's axe lay half-buried nearby, still humming faintly with residual Ki. It was strange — for all the fury of the fight, Cain felt… nothing. Not triumph. Not relief. Just the dull ache of existence pressing down on him again.
