Chapter 44
Velmora – Rooftop Overlooking the Lower Sector
The sun bled its last light across the fractured skyline, staining the ruins of the spire in hues of crimson and ash. Wind tore through the broken metal skeletons of once-great towers, carrying with it the faint cries of children, sirens, and the brittle stillness of a world barely holding together.
Kiro stood at the edge of a rooftop, his cloak fluttering behind him like a dying banner. Pablo was beside him, silent, eyes fixed on the distant horizon.
And then it began.
A low hum rose in the sky—deeper than thunder, older than language. The clouds overhead twisted unnaturally, spiraling inward like a vortex made of shadows.
Then—reality itself cracked.
A jagged black rift split open the sky, slicing through the firmament like a divine wound. From its depths poured not light, but darkness—living, screaming, writhing.
Voidlings.
Thousands of them.
They spilled from the tear in chaotic formation—wings leathery and barbed, limbs mismatched and ever-shifting, eyes like molten ink. Some flew. Some crawled along the very air. Others dove straight to the surface in spiraling frenzy.
The skyline of Velmora ignited in panic. Sirens wailed. Emergency glyphs lit up along every remaining defense post. Mechs roared to life, rail cannons charged, and crimson banners of the El'Vertigo resistance unfurled in the smoke-choked wind.