Trafalgar's gaze stayed fixed on the shimmer ahead — the air itself twisting, warping, bleeding into an open wound in reality. The sound was low, like a growl muffled underwater, and yet… familiar.
'This isn't the first time I've seen one,' he thought grimly, his jaw tightening. The memory surfaced — the collapsed mine, the suffocating dark, and that voice. The Veiled Woman. The way her presence tore the air apart and filled the cavern with endless openings.
He could almost hear her whisper again — soft, feminine, and heavy with something he still couldn't name. 'Your destiny is written.'
'It's been a while since that woman crossed my mind… if she even was a woman. That voice— it had weight. Command. And the number of Rifts that appeared that day wasn't normal. Dozens… no, maybe hundreds. But I didn't stop to count.'
The hum in the clearing deepened, pulling him back to the present. The Rift pulsed once more, its edges splitting wider, letting a pale arm crawl through.
