The wind over Ashenveil shifted.
Not a breeze.
A warning.
It howled through the valley like something trying to speak but without a mouth. Birds fled the skies. Trees bent away from the mountains. And every blade of grass shivered.
In the capital, shrines of flame went out for the first time in recorded history.
Somewhere far from them, in a chamber wrapped in moonlight and rune-etched marble, Elias Black stood motionless, fingers twitching against the grip of a blade forged from his own soul.
The Hollow King had spoken.
Not in words. Not in dreams.
But in command.
> "Sovereign... there is no place left for you in the world you tried to save."
---
Preparations for War
Elias's eyes narrowed as the echo faded. Around him, the Sovereign Council began to gather—his closest allies, each wielders of unique dominions across the post-System world.
