They came without sound.
No horns.
No fire.
No threat of war.
Only a stillness so complete, it bled the color from the sky.
---
The Nullborn were not shadows.
They were the absence of memory.
No names.
No souls.
No dreams.
They moved like holes torn through fabric — unraveling not just space, but the stories that held the world together.
---
The first strike came in the Forgotten Valley.
An entire village — erased.
Not burned. Not slain.
Just… unwritten.
Only a single child survived.
And when they found her, she could only repeat one word:
> "Where?"
---
Isen stood on the highest spire of Vel'thera, clutching the memory-sphere Nima had delivered.
Inside it: the original name.
A sound older than the world.
A key.
But not to a door.
To remembering.
And she would need it.
Because the Nullborn were here.
And they were hungry.
---
The Spiral Bearers returned.
Kaela rode through storm and ash.
Darian emerged from the Dream Coast, his blade singing.
