The gray sands whispered under a wind that brought neither direction nor relief. The sky remained black—starless, silent as the void.
Fade was on his knees. His left hand still trembled slightly—the zippo was gone. But its warmth… lingered. As if it had passed into his skin, into his blood.
The figure before him wore his father's face, but not a human stance. Its form shifted—sometimes fragmented, sometimes whole. Its eyes gave off no light, yet when it looked at Fade, something deep within him responded.
"I searched for you…" Fade said, his throat dry. "All my life."
"And I searched for you," the figure replied. "But we were not the only ones searching."
It raised its hand. A glowing pattern flared in the dark—a web, complex and familiar. It mirrored the marks pulsing across Fade's body.
"These… why did they awaken with me?"
