The sky split open.
It wasn't a lightning strike or a tear in the heavens. It was eyes—golden, unblinking, and cold as the void, peering down from the roiling clouds like the heavens themselves had gained sentience. A dozen of them, each the size of a moon, stared with an intensity that made the air hum with divine pressure. Every blink sent a clap of thunder rolling across the shattered forest, shaking ash and embers from the scorched earth. The weight of their gaze pressed against Raze's chest, a primal warning that urged him to run, to burrow deep into the earth and hide.
