The Shattering of Kut

Dawn broke as Thrime burned.

The sky wept with the cries of children. Smoke trailed down the mountain slope as small feet fled. Some barefoot, some bloodied — but all eight survived.

Ashes danced in the air as the eight gathered again. Years had passed, but the wound remained fresh. Tengir knelt, his fingers trembling as he touched the sacred text hidden in Ayserin’s satchel — the Book of Kut.

The page turned itself.

"And when eight stars fall, shadows break, and Kut is called once more."

Ayserin stirred from a dream laced in flame and memory. Her voice barely above a whisper.

"One of us… serves the darkness."

Alaztuğ’s hand went to his sword.

"We swore."

Korkut’s lips curled.

"Swears don’t banish fear."

Albörü stepped forward.

"We form the circle. Now. Here."

For the first time, the Unity Circle was drawn.

Hands pressed to soil. Blades raised. Eyes shut in focus.

Eight voices whispered their oaths.

Runes shimmered. Symbols burned in air.

And from the drifting ash… the first enemy emerged.

Masked. Silent.

But Ayserin knew him.

"The ninth… the lost one… a harbinger of the dark formation."

Their vow had not ended that day in Thrime.

It had only begun.