The Night the Council Chose Fire
The emergency decree went out at sunset.
Not by messenger.
Not by banner.
By seal.
Ancient sigils flared to life across the territories, burning themselves into stone, trees, and the minds of every Alpha bound to Council authority. The decree did not speak Aurelia's name.
It did not need to.
It spoke of purification.
Of instability.
Of emergency jurisdiction.
Of absolute authority.
Alaric felt it first.
His posture stiffened, eyes darkening as the sigil's resonance rippled through the basin. "They have invoked the Purge Clause."
Cassian froze. "They swore never to use that again."
Lucien's voice was low and dangerous. "Because last time, it nearly ended the world."
I felt the chains inside me tighten violently, not toward my bonds, but outward, snapping into painful clarity.
"They are no longer pretending," I said. "This is not exile. This is eradication."
