The silence after the Architect's trial was not peaceful.
It was watchful.
Amaya felt it in the way the air pressed against her skin, in the way the stone beneath her feet hummed faintly, like something holding its breath. The golden light inside her had settled—but it had not gone quiet. It was alert now. Listening.
Waiting.
Calix straightened slowly, his posture shifting from protector to king. The wounds from the earlier battle had sealed, though faint scars still glimmered like moonlight across his skin. He scanned the tunnel ahead, nostrils flaring.
"We are no longer hidden," he said.
Leo's ears flicked, tails tightening behind him. "No. The moment she chose creation, every realm felt it."
Amaya swallowed. "So… what happens now?"
Neither king answered immediately.
That alone made her uneasy.
The path ahead split into three corridors, each carved with different sigils. One pulsed gold. One shimmered silver. One bled shadow.
Calix stepped closer to the gold-lit passage.
