The rain hadn't stopped in hours.
It whispered against the ruined earth in ceaseless sheets, icy and constant, like the world itself was trying to drown its own memories. Valerian stood atop a crag of black stone, cloak sodden and heavy, shoulders squared against the cold wind. The ridge overlooked what had once been the province of Glairemoor — now just ash, bones, and ghosts.
The wetness didn't reach him anymore. Not truly. His skin had grown numb to the world. But behind his eyes… there was a dull throb. A pulse like a warning bell. The place the System always whispered from — that invisible thread wrapped around his soul.
> [System Notification: You are being watched.]
The message shimmered in his mind's eye, stark and cold as metal.
Fourth time today.
