The sky was full of wounds.
Not clouds.
Not stars.
Wounds.
Cracks in reality pouring out living paradoxes—beasts born from unresolved fractures, creatures made from contradiction itself.
Some burned with frozen fire.
Some moved in two directions at once.
Some existed half in time, half outside it.
And all of them—
Were coming.
Lyra looked up and sighed.
"…You know, normal people get wolves."
Kaelith responded instantly.
"These are not wolves."
"…That was sarcasm."
"I know."
Even now.
Even at the edge of metaphysical war.
Still them.
Adrian stepped forward.
The First Wound blazing across his chest.
Symbols circling around him.
The Rite alive.
Contradiction beasts screamed.
And charged.
The ground split beneath their approach.
Reality glitching with every step.
Aria inhaled sharply.
"…There are too many."
Seraphine whispered.
"…Then we hold."
Elara drew near Adrian.
Calm as ever.
"…Show them what healing means."
Adrian smiled.
Dangerously.
"…Gladly."
