Oliver's breath halted in his chest. His heartbeat raced, now pounding within the hollow shell of his ear. Glimmering from his skin, golden cracks appeared across his body, crackling like lightning. His chest heaved, and then - he gasped.A heavy pulse of light exploded from his heart. Suddenly, everything outside him was void. The space opened around him, revealing a dusky, endless void that felt as though time birthed itself apart, fragments of broken worlds swirling in every direction. He saw flashes of occurrences that didn't make sense-burned cities, laughing children, oceans on fire, and snow falling upwards. Lovers were apparently taking hands in front of something dreadful, almost as if time was making jokes at his expense. His eyes widened. They were different now and not their usual colors. Bright - white, pure, and blinding - the new eyes were no longer a person. He felt something deeper, something immensely beyond what he was.He could hear strange voices echoing from some

The world had restarted. Like a clock rewinding, everything moved backward before slowly beginning again. Time pulled itself back together, piece by piece, like broken glass being glued into one mirror. But even when it looked whole, the cracks were still there.Oliver lay on the ground. His back felt the cold, damp soil. His eyes opened slowly. The sky above him looked strange. It shimmered and shook, like it had been hurt. He blinked a few times, trying to understand what he was seeing. Something had sliced through the sky—a long, jagged cut—and even though it was starting to heal, the scar still shimmered with a strange light.The air smelled sharp and strange. Like old blood and burning books. Like rust and smoke. Oliver coughed and sat up, using his arms for support. They trembled under his weight. His chest rose and fell quickly. Every part of his body hurt. His hands were scraped. His knees were bruised. He felt like he had fallen from somewhere very high.He touched his chest,

The world was falling apart. Oliver felt it the very moment he stepped across the black fields.The ground under his boots was soft and wet, like stepping on rotten fruit. A thick fog hung low over everything, clinging to his skin like a wet sheet. The fog smelled bad—like old eggs and burning hair. Every breath he took made his throat burn. The air was heavy, like trying to breathe through mud. And with every slow beat of his heart, Oliver felt something even worse: a sense that his body was becoming less his own. Like the world was trying to pull him apart from the inside.Above him, the sky was broken. Thick gray clouds twisted and moved like giant snakes, fighting each other. Now and then, something like lightning flashed behind them, but it wasn’t the kind of light Oliver had ever seen. It was black and red, pulsing like a heartbeat.And from those torn clouds... the rain came. But it wasn’t real rain. It was thick, black, and sticky, falling in heavy drops like tar. When it hi

The creature lunged. Oliver twisted aside at the last second, the thing’s tendrils ripping the air inches from his chest. He staggered, boots skidding on slick stone, heart hammering against his ribs. The Lost Name pulsed above the pedestal, so close he could almost reach it—almost.The monster hissed, a wet, tearing sound like rotting cloth being ripped apart. Its body flexed, stitched from old memories, broken laughter, whispered regrets.Move!Oliver dove forward, sliding across the cavern floor. His fingers brushed the pedestal—cold, humming, alive. The Lost Name burned against his skin, sinking into him like a brand, not hurting, but changing.The creature howled.Oliver turned, wild-eyed—and Azrael was there, silver fire burning in his hands. He slammed a blast of magic into the stitched-together nightmare, sending it flying back into the shadows.“Move, kid!” Azrael barked. “We’re not done yet!”Oliver staggered to his feet, the Lost Name singing in his blood. It felt right. Li

There was no up. No down. No left or right. Only light. A rushing, roaring sea of white light.Oliver floated in it, weightless, like a leaf in a wild river. His body tingled all over, the memory of pain still fresh on his skin. He tried to move, but there was nothing to grab onto. There was no ground, no sky, nothing at all. Only the endless white.Somewhere close to him, Ailith held onto his hand. He could feel her fingers, small and tight around his. Her silver hair whipped around her face, flying in the invisible wind. She looked so small here, so fragile, but she didn’t let go.The white light pulled them deeper, spinning them slowly, like falling into a dream they couldn't wake up from.Oliver’s heart hammered in his chest, so loud he could almost hear it.Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Every breath he took felt thick, like breathing smoke instead of air.Where are we? he thought. What happened? Azrael...The image of Azrael flashed in his mind—Azrael, broken and chained, reaching