The light from the altar died slowly, shrinking into thin silver wisps that curled upward and faded like smoke. The cavern dimmed. The roots’ glow flickered uneasily under my boots. The air thickened with something ancient, something cold, something that tasted like dust and memories that had never belonged to me.
And then the First Sleeper stepped fully into the chamber.
Its presence stole the sound from the air.
It moved in a slow, creeping glide. Not walking. Not floating. A sickening combination of both. Its limbs stretched unnaturally long, shifting like unfinished shapes, its arms bending at angles that hurt to look at. Its skin flickered between child and monster, smooth one second, cracked the next. Ridges pulsed beneath it, silver veins crawling upward until they disappeared be
