Kai didn't dream that night.
He didn't sleep much either.
But when he finally closed his eyes, exhaustion dragged him under.
And when he woke—
He screamed.
The pain hit first.
White-hot. Sharp. Ancient.
As if someone had carved fire into his body with a quill made of godbone.
He ripped open his shirt—
And froze.
Words.
Burned into his chest.
Not scars. Not ink.
Divine script. Glowing faintly red.
Elira was the first to hear him. She crashed into the tent with a drawn sword, eyes wide.
Yulia followed seconds later, already scanning for poisons or curses.
But neither was ready for what they saw.
"Gods above…" Yulia whispered.
The text wasn't just a warning.
It was a prophecy fragment.
Etched from clavicle to navel, twisting like roots down his ribs.
Elira stepped forward. "Is that… you?"
Kai nodded slowly, voice hoarse. "It's my name. And my death."