The Dream-Splinter Awakens
Beneath the moonless sky, Feng Xian's body lies still inside the Jade Serpent Isles' sacred grove, but within his dream-soul, the world convulses.
He walks along a coiling path of glass-serpents, suspended between sea and sky. At its end: a throne carved of bone coral and burnt jade.
A serpent-shaped oracle, splintered and eyeless, awaits.
"You awaken what was severed. You bear the fire that speaks in the tongue of ash."
The oracle leans forward — its whisper a blend of serpent hiss and ancestral flame.
Images flash:
The first serpent, bathed in gold fire, breaking from a shell at the world's beginning.
A child wreathed in both embers and scales, clutching a crown with seven coils.
A city drowned in its own prophetic silence, as a devouring shadow unfurls from beneath.
"The Serpent root calls it prophecy. The Hollow-Touched call it sustenance. You... may yet call it choice."
As the dream ends, the Splinter lashes forward — embedding a coiling brand into Feng Xian's dream-soul.
Serpent Oracle's Eyes Open
Feng Xian awakens screaming, the grove damp with spiritual dew.
He's escorted under veil and chant to the Serpent Oracle's Hollow, a cavern coiled within the largest living tree on the isles. There, surrounded by serpents that do not move but breathe, the Oracle speaks.
"You carry it within... the echo of the Coil and the ember of judgment."
It coils around him in silence.
Luo Fen kneels beside him. Her voice is soft: "You're changing, Feng Xian. You're not the only one."
The Oracle hisses:
"Three paths rise: bind the coil, break it… or feed it."
Then… silence. The Oracle's body turns cold.
A prophecy left incomplete — a choice must be made before the next eclipse.
III. The Devouring Hand Moves
Far from the Isles, across a storm-churned coast, a twisting figure of slick black cords and mask less skin walks through a fishing village.
No words. No weapons. Just the weight of hollow hunger.
The villagers scream. One falls, his blood hissing as it's drawn upward into a spinning sigil of coils and flames.
From the bones of the slain, it crafts a message. Burned into the beach sand:
"Marked. He will be devoured."
The Devouring Hand, elite hunter of the High Hollow Priest, now walks the Silent Tide toward the Isles.
And the ocean boils in his wake.
⚔️ Next Possible Steps
Feng Xian and Luo Fen prepare for a deeper dive into the Rotspire's history beneath the Isles.
The Pavilion sends emissaries — not to free Feng Xian, but to contain the spread of the flame-taint.
A storm dreams across the Hollow Sea, where Szuul prepares to surface.