PREVIEW

... omething stirring beneath soil and root. Birds scattered in pulses. Branches bowed not to wind, but something deeper.

Jin slowed, boots crunching dead leaves as he stepped toward the base of the great tree—the one that had once housed Gugwe-mok.

And now, pulsed with a sickly green glow. A glow that ran like veins up the length of the trunk, bleeding into branches that didn’t sway so much as quiver.

Behind him, Aesteros came to a halt.

"So," the old stone figure sa ...

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