My breath hitched as the world slowed.
The battlefield blurred. The shadowed sky melted into obsidian mist, and the fallen Queen, the enemy heir, the fractured land — all of it disappeared.
I looked down. My hands were no longer holding a blade.
They were glowing. Dripping with shadowlight, trembling like they were caught between blessing and curse.
"Where… am I?" I murmured.
Then I heard it.
A thousand voices. Whispering. Chanting.
And before me, from the endless void, emerged three titanic figures cloaked in flowing shadowfire, each one wearing a different mask—Grief, Wrath, and Silence.
The Primordial Shadows.
This wasn't a battlefield.
It was a throne room.
A courtroom.
A crucible.
They weren't here to give me power.
They were here to judge me.
For every time I hesitated.For every time I chose to protect, rather than destroy.For every moment I allowed mercy.
They were the oldest rulers of the Realm, before names, before crowns. And they had no room for weakness.
