Khael felt the Shard beating inside his chest.
Not metaphorically.
Not spiritually.
Literally.
A second pulse thrummed beneath his ribs, like an alien heart grafted into flesh that wasn't meant to hold it. Each throb burrowed deeper into his nerves, sending thin strands of icy heat spiraling through the channels of his Vein Gates. The pressure was maddening like something ancient was reaching upward, clawing to the surface of his soul.
And his own heart…
His own pulse…
matched it.
Beat.
Beat.
Beat.
Beat.
He raised his hand toward his chest, fingers trembling as if the Shard were pulling them.
K's eyes sparkled.
Khael saw triumph blooming there quiet, smug, inevitable.
A predator savoring a moment he had crafted with patience and precision.
"Yes… that's it." K whispered.
His voice was silk, brushing across Khael's shaking spirit.
"Accept the burden. Accept your fate. Hand it over."
