The smoke rising from the ruins of the Blood-Crag Pack house was a thick, greasy black, a stark contrast to the golden, glittering dust of the Chrono-Sand that still carpeted the valley. The explosion of the Gears of the First Alpha had not only leveled the physical structure of our birthplace; it had sent a metaphysical shockwave through the tectonic plates of the world. The air was charged with static, the kind that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up and the tattoos of the ancient runes beneath my skin vibrate with a low, nervous hum.
I stood in the center of the devastated courtyard, my feet bare against the scorched earth. My skin was ivory and warm again, the bronze and gold of the Earth-Pillar having retreated into my marrow, but the rings of liquid ruby around my pupils remained—a permanent mark of the Sanguine Empress.
