The gate did not simply open—it unraveled. Threads of time and soul twisted into spirals of light and shadow. Seraphina stepped through first, her hand tightening around Ravon's. Behind them, the world howled. Ahead of them, silence reigned.
The space between realms was wrong. Skies bled silver. Earth floated in fragments. Stars blinked in reverse. Even sound had no place here. Ravon flinched as his demonfire flickered low.
"This place rejects me," he muttered.
Seraphina's child stirred, then pulsed. A soft golden light spread from her womb, wrapping around Ravon like a shield.
He gasped. "It's protecting me... again."
They moved forward, drawn toward a monolith of burning crystal. Standing before it was a chained being, eyes blindfolded, mouth sealed with holy fire.
But it spoke. Not with words—but with thoughts that thundered.
"Mother of Collapse and Birth… the realms bend for you."
Seraphina took a step forward. "Who are you?"
"I am the Watcher, cursed to see all possible ends… and the cost of each."
The ground shattered beneath their feet. Visions cracked open:
The baby crowned in light and crowned in death.
Ravon crumbling into ash.
Realms burning.
The Watcher's chains tightened. "One birth. Two destinies. A thousand deaths. Choose."
Suddenly, a pulse from the child cleared the storm. A path of light cut through the void. At its end stood a Throne — shaped from flame and woven from whispers.
Ravon collapsed.
"No!" Seraphina caught him. His skin was pale, his flame dim. "What's happening?"
The Watcher bowed its head.
"Demonfire is a relic. This place feeds only on truth and soul. He cannot survive here long."
Tears brimmed in Seraphina's eyes. She stood, lifting Ravon with her light. Her child's glow wrapped around them both, anchoring them.
---
Elsewhere…
In the North, the Silent King rose from his tomb of mirrors. "The Veil is touched," he murmured. "And so it begins again."
In the Skies, the blind Oracle wept. "The Cradle tilts. The balance bleeds."
And far below, the hooded woman—leader of the Cradleless—raised her hand as thousands knelt. "We strike before the child takes breath."
---
Back Within the Gate…
Seraphina climbed the final steps to the Throne. The moment her hand touched its edge, a searing light pulled her inward.
She stood in a future that didn't yet exist.
A throne… or a tomb.
Her child spoke. Not from her womb—but from her mind:
"If I am born here, I become more than fate. If born in the world, I become hope or ruin. Choose wisely, Mother."
She turned. Ravon was on his knees, barely conscious. His flame was almost gone.
Her heart cracked. "I won't lose you."
But the Watcher's voice thundered again:
"A soul must be left behind… or none leave at all."