Chapter 945

Jude stepped to the edge and peered in. The water didn't reflect the sky. It showed the house. Then it shifted, showing the circle they had built. Then the throne, now buried. Then it showed him. Not a reflection. A version. Dressed in black, alone.

Rose whispered, "It's showing futures."

"No," Jude murmured. "It's offering them."

The robe clung tighter to his skin. The spiral around them vibrated. Jude touched the water.

It didn't feel wet.

It felt like thought.

And it spoke, not in words, but in hunger. It didn't want worship. It didn't want blood. It wanted coherence. A story that didn't change. A purpose it could believe in.

Jude stepped back. "This is a choice."

Serena looked at him. "What happens if you go in?"

"I become one of its stories."

Rose's voice was cold. "And if you don't?"

"It keeps writing."