Kaelen looked at the Inquisitor. He looked at the golden band.
He fell.
He was in a tavern in the Hive, celebrating his newfound dominion with a stolen cask of Ignition rum. A little girl, no older than seven, tugged at his sleeve. She was a Voidwalker’s orphan, her eyes hollow and her ribs showing through a stained tunic. She asked for a single coin. sovereign bangle deepwoken
Kaelen opened his mouth to speak, the words of honeyed manipulation already forming on his tongue. But in that instant, a memory surfaced—not his own, but the Bangle’s. A previous wearer. A man named Arcturus, who had worn the Bangle for thirty years before it had discarded his hollowed-out body on a beach. In the memory, Kaelen saw Arcturus standing before his own daughter, tears streaming down his face as the Bangle forced him to recite a list of every reason he’d ever resented her. Kaelen looked at the Inquisitor
The breaking point came at the Obsidian Arch. He was in a tavern in the Hive,
For three days, he was a god.
He felt the first crack on the fourth day.