Rain fell that night.
Kael sat alone in the attic, the book open on his lap. The strange ink glowed faintly, drawing a moving symbol — an open circle with three rising lines forming a stair-like mark. Words slowly appeared.
> "The First Sign: Awareness."
Kael read it over and over. As he touched the symbol, his mind was pulled — as if his soul detached from his body, piercing through the ceiling of the world.
He saw himself.
He saw the church from above.
He saw the city as a riddle.
He saw… the world as a pattern.
Then — darkness.
---
He awoke the next morning with his heart pounding. Anselm sat by his bedside.
> "You spoke in your sleep," Anselm said, concerned.
"You said… this world is not a world. You said it's only a mirror of something larger."
Kael didn't reply. Inside his head, new symbols bloomed. He began to recall things he had never learned. Strange languages. Ancient names. And one repeating phrase:
> "The Stair is a wound. The Sign is the map. Ascent is the wound understood."
---
In the days that followed, Kael changed. He began writing on his walls. Lines. Symbols. Constellations.
Father Eluon watched in silence. He knew what was happening.
> "The boy…" he whispered one night. "He's beginning to Ascend."
---
Meanwhile, beyond the city, a group in black robes erected an altar among ruins. They raised their hands to the night sky.
> "The Heir has touched his first wound," one of them said.
"First Shadow, rise."
The ground beneath them pulsed.