Beneath the Garden's canopy, the tension crackled like lightning caught in a net of vines.
Not all resistance was voiced. Some was held close—clenched in fists, pressed behind tight lips, whispered along private channels of thought. The Blank Sky Pact had fought monsters, gods, and paradoxes. But what now stood before them—a treaty with the Unwritten—was harder to aim at.
Harder to strike.
Harder to survive.
Kael remained unmoved at the edge of the circle. His fingers brushed the hilt of his blade, but he did not draw. His silence spoke louder than any accusation. Saphrel, flanked by the Pale Witnesses she had once led into the Mouth of Silence, circled the page as if guarding it from both threat and corruption.
Elowen turned to Aiden, her voice quiet.
"They trust you. But they don't trust this."
"I don't blame them," Aiden said.
