That night, it came for Glad.
She woke in her hotel room to darkness—not normal darkness, but something thicker, heavier, alive.
"Glad." Ariel's voice, strained. "Something's here."
She couldn't see him. Couldn't see anything.
Then a voice—ancient, cold, familiar in ways that made no sense.
"Gladys Samotiloy. Finally."
"Who are you?"
"Someone who has waited centuries for you. Someone who watched your rise with great interest." The darkness pulsed. "Someone who will watch your fall with even greater."
"You're the one taking creatures."
"I'm the one collecting what's mine. Your movement has spread too far, too fast. It must be... contained."
"And the creatures?"
"Necessary sacrifices. Their energy feeds me. Sustains me. Until I'm ready."
"Ready for what?"
The darkness laughed—a sound like breaking bones.
"To consume you, of course. But not yet. You're not ready yet. Too many defenses. Too many connections. I'll wait. I've waited this long."
The darkness receded.
Light returned.
Ariel stood beside her, shaking. "Glad—what WAS that?"
"I don't know. But I think—" She swallowed hard. "I think it's connected to the Eldest. Or the prophecy. Or both."
"We need to go home. Warn everyone."
"Agreed. But first—" She grabbed her phone. "I need to call the Eldest."