C24 The First Worshippers

The air had weight.

Not the kind that pressed down with gravity, but something ancient, metaphysical—a pressure that clawed at the skin and teased the soul.

Aiden stood beneath the shrine constructed overnight by unseen hands. Marble so black it swallowed light. Golden glyphs shimmering in languages long dead. The twin obsidian thrones sat behind him, still empty. For now