The worldender

**Kelly Thompson's POV**

The Worldender isn’t a star. It’s a *silence*.

Its presence erases sound, color, and breath, leaching the wasteland into a grayscale husk. The survivors call it the **Voidspire**, but its true name carves itself into their minds like a curse: *Ankaur*, the Eater of Echoes. Where the Eclipse judged, Ankaur *unmakes*—consuming not just matter, but memory, reducing entire timelines to hollow static.

Ravel stands at the edge of camp, her gaze locked on the horizon where the Voidspire’s shadow bleeds into the sky. Her bandages are stained with old blood, her hands trembling not from fear, but rage. “We need to move. Now.”

The Marked disagree. They’ve built an altar from Keep shards and fractured glass, their crystalline bodies humming in unison as they chant to the Voidspire. **“Ankaur cleanses. Ankaur renews.”**