The Broken Covenant

Oenrust Island — The Ancient Temple. The chamber trembled with silent energy. Dust rose in halos beneath Thalia’s feet as she stepped into the center of the temple, palms open. Her breath slowed. Her eyes turned glassy—pupils swallowed by amber light. The temple’s residual force—the memory of myth—began to stir.

David steadied himself against the altar as the Crown warmed in his hand, its glow flickering like a dying star. A sharp pulse. Then another. It wasn’t just reacting to him anymore—it was resonating with the room itself.

Thalia’s voice came distant, layered—more spirit than sound.

“I see two futures…”

Her hands lifted slightly, fingers twitching with each incoming vision.

“The Tenth Dragon’s followers… barefoot, planting trees under Komodo’s blood-orange sun… They gave breath back to the land. Life… not power.”

Her head jerked—another vision crashing through.