The village of Thornmere slept under a silver sky. Kairo stood on the riverbank, fingers trailing the icy water, thinking only of tomorrow's harvest. He never saw the comet until the wind began to hum.
A sound like a thousand whispers drifted over the forest. Birds erupted from their nests. The water turned black, reflecting a jagged streak of crimson that tore across the stars.
Kairo's chest tightened. The streak grew, pulsing like a heartbeat, until the heavens cracked — not thunder, but something deeper, like a temple door opening after centuries.
From the rent in the sky, a shard of light spiraled down, slow and deliberate. It landed in the meadow behind him with no more sound than a sigh.
Drawn by a pull he couldn't name, Kairo stumbled toward the impact. Grass curled and burned to glass where the shard lay. It wasn't rock. It was a blade of crystal, humming softly, etched with symbols that shifted as he blinked.
He reached out.
The instant his fingers brushed the shard, fire tore through his palm. A mark bloomed there — an intricate circle threaded with runes he'd never seen yet somehow understood. His breath caught; the air smelled of ozone and forgotten rain.
And then a voice, not quite male, not quite female, whispered inside his skull:
"Key found. Archive unlocked."
The meadow dissolved. Trees warped into shadows of themselves. A second sun rose over the horizon, blood-red and wrong.
Kairo gasped and fell to his knees as the voice continued:
"Memory cost: one."
He blinked — and forgot his sister's name.