Laxin's iron-red scars flickered across the codex's cover, pulsing like living ink. "And if the path fights us? We fight back. But never to erase. Always to shape the question, never the answer."
Ahead, a caravan halted at a crossroads it had not yet chosen, soldiers pausing mid-step, unsure which path to take. A child on a cliff waved at a star, and the star shimmered brighter, bending slightly toward the gesture. The Fifth Path responded, rippling as though the world itself laughed quietly at its own growing sentience.
The Shadow's presence lingered still, threads of ink like hesitant tendrils probing, curious rather than malicious. Fenric's silver fire did not lash at them this time. "It's learning," he said. "It's not trying to destroy. It's… asking. And the world answers it in ways we can only watch."
Aria's hand hovered over the codex. "Every choice it makes… every question it poses… it writes the story alongside us."
