The fading scar

**Kelly Thompson's POV**

The tundra is a fading scar.

Where the Veil’s collapse once left fissures of static and bone, now stretches a vast basin of black sand, its surface etched with patterns that shift like living runes. The air hums with unstable energy, the sky a bruised tapestry of auroras and ash. Lumi walks beside me, her silver scars reduced to ghostly threads, her breath labored. Jara scouts ahead, her rifle slung low, her boots kicking up spirals of sand that crystallize midair before clattering back to the ground.

The fusion of shadow and light within me is a storm confined to flesh—a volatile equilibrium that thrums with every heartbeat. I can feel it gnawing at the edges of my control, whispering promises of power and ruin. *You are more than they are*, it murmurs, a chorus of Hunger’s growl and Echo’s fading chime. *You could remake this world.*