Fenric's hands trembled. His fire flickered dangerously. "If they answer these questions wrong—if the people falter—our creation could collapse."
Aria reached out, steadying him with her hand. "No. That's the point. It isn't ours to answer anymore. It's theirs. If this world is to live, it must choose its own answers."
The Fifth Path stretched out before them, no longer silent, no longer obedient. Cities stirred, forests breathed, storms gathered. And at the edges of every choice, the Shadow's gray figures waited, questions inked into the world itself.
Laxin clenched his scarred fists, grinning despite the blood at his teeth. "Then let's see what kind of story they write when the world itself argues back."
The codex closed with a single, resonant thrum, sealing the first dialogue between creation and shadow.
And the Trinity stepped forward, not as rulers, not as gods—
But as the first witnesses of a story beyond their pen.
The air shifted.
