The gentle amber twilight filling the Hollow Core deepened into a rich, sky sapphire as the great serpent stirred above.
For eighteen hours following the extraction of the cosmic parasite, the Archaic World-Serpent World-serpent had rested among the upper crystal arches. Its huge form, stretching nearly two miles in length, had remained coiled in silent healing. Meanwhile, the newborn aether washed over its scales. Now, with a soft, melodic scraping of polished diamond plates against stone, the titan began its descent toward the terrace.
The sheer mass of the creature defied terrestrial biology. Each single scale was as wide as an armored personnel carrier, shimmering with nested rings of sapphire, white-gold, and dormant gold. Yet World-serpent dropped through the zero-gravity geode. Then, it moved without displacing a single pebble from the crystal stone railings, gliding upon magnetic currents as silent as deep water.
Beside the glowing embers of the campfire, Grimm rose to his feet.
The hound didn’t bare his fangs. His ears were held high and alert, his spine straight, his black glass bristle coat rippling with steady gravity composure. He stepped forward three paces, placing himself at Arthur’s left flank. Not in an attitude of rabid aggression, but with the measured stance of a vanguard commander acknowledging an ancient sovereign.
