Across the Nullvein Gravewake Folds.
In the Hollow Concord of Nullity.
Where the remnants of calamity clung like dust to faded weavings of existence.
A depraved soul was moving.
Silently.
Relentlessly.
Usurping the weavings of the last Mawbearers that Aetheron had left scattered and half-finished.
Discarded pieces. Incomplete beings. Flawed Thrones.
The soul devoured them all.
With cold precision and ruthless patience, the soul moved through them, consuming what others had failed to understand.
But then…
BOOM!
The soul paused.
And within it... something bloomed.
It pulsed once, like a tiny heartbeat in the void. Then again, louder. Clearer.
A spark. A shimmer.
A Living Seed of Existence.
It took root within this soul- this contradictory, incomplete, ever-becoming soul.
The seed was drawn to it.
Because it was a soul that had no stable form. No fixed identity. A soul filled with paradoxes.
A soul, unaligned... and yet perfectly positioned.
