The forest held its breath.
Then the world screamed.
The roar detonated the surroundings like a bomb. The shockwave flattened the remaining trees and split the sky, sending flocks of charred birds in the distance tumbling from the air. Every instinct in Kain's body screamed to run. His knees nearly buckled from the weight pressing down on his spirit alone.
The tremors deepened, growing so violent that the ground sagged in waves. Then, with a groan like the world collapsing, a fifty‑meter ring of forest sank into itself as the soil crumbled away—trees, roots, and stone swallowed whole as if by a forming sinkhole.
From the torn earth crawled a beast that shouldn't exist—serpentine like the last, but draped in burning shadows. Its scales glowed like molten obsidian, and every exhale vomited flame that twisted between black and crimson. Its eyes—two perfect orbs of violet fire—locked onto them from across the valley.
Serena's breath caught. "It's—"
Kain didn't let her finish.
