It was not merely wind.
It was as if the air itself were being torn into invisible fragments.
Halverin trembled beneath violent gusts that ripped signs from their posts, overturned carts, and forced the tower bells to ring on their own — as if something unseen were pulling them from the other side.
The sky had no color.
Cloud and mountain blended into a single crushing mass of absence.
Inside a miserable house near the harbor, the smell of blood and smoke mixed with rain that slipped through the cracked wooden walls.
“Breathe, Mara… now!” the midwife urged, her hands shaking.
The fireplace flickered weakly.
Its shadows stretched unnaturally across the stone walls, long and claw-like.
Edrik paced the narrow room, his face pale, his fists clenched so tightly that his nails cut into his palms.
“Please… just hold on a little longer…” he whispered, unsure whether he was speaking to Mara… or to God.
Then—
The cry that should have come…
Did not.
The world fell silent.
For long seconds, there was only rain.
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The midwife lifted the newborn carefully.
His skin was pale as ash.
Too still.
She swallowed hard.
“He…”“He’s not responding.”
Mara broke into helpless sobs.
Edrik froze.
The storm outside continued to howl—
Then it stopped.
Abruptly.
Not fading.
Stopping.
The air split.
There was no light.
No sound.
Yet everyone felt it — as if something invisible had torn open inside their minds.
The space above the cradle twisted.
A black fracture formed in the air, pulsing slowly like an open wound carved into reality itself.
The air around it trembled violently, distorting, recoiling, as though existence itself rejected what was forming.
The midwife collapsed to her knees, whispering frantic prayers.
Edrik could not move.
He could not breathe.
The fracture widened—
And from within it, there was no shape.
No body.
Only presence.
Watching.
Measuring.
The newborn’s chest suddenly jerked.
A sharp gasp tore through the room.
Then—
A cry.
Strong.
Raw.
Alive.
The fracture snapped shut.
As if it had never existed.
Outside, the wind vanished.
The bells of the city rang once.
No hand had touched them.
Mara, trembling, pulled the child close to her chest.
Tears streamed down her face.
“Ren…” she whispered.“That will be your name.”
The fire steadied.
The storm dissolved.
The night resumed.
And Halverin pretended nothing had happened.
But something had shifted.
Not in the sky.
Not in the city.
In the world itself.
Something that was not meant to return…
Had entered it again.
And far beyond sight—
Something that had been waiting…
Finally felt it.