— THE SERPENT BENEATH THE CRADLE
Silence pressed down on the World Seed like wet cloth.
It wasn't just quiet—it felt heavy, thick, almost… alive.
Vaen Aen'kar sat cross-legged, fingers brushing the mist that curled around him. The creatures knelt, silent, smoke-like, obedient. He stared beyond the trees, unblinking, as if seeing threads of something older than time itself.
Then he felt it.
A tremor beneath the ground. Slow. Subtle. Almost like breathing. Almost like… awareness.
Vaen's fingers twitched. The tremor grew, slithering beneath the soil of his inner world, unseen yet undeniable.
A serpent. Not a normal creature. Not flesh and bone as humans knew it. Something older. Patient. Silent. Waiting.
"You… wait," Vaen whispered, voice small, uncertain, yet somehow cutting through the emptiness.
The serpent paused. The world seemed to hold its breath.
A hiss broke the silence. Low, curling around roots, wrapping the air itself.
Vaen tilted his head. "Why are you hiding?" His voice was softer this time. "I'm not afraid."
The creatures shivered instinctively, but Vaen didn't look away.
The serpent coiled higher, scales glinting faintly, light bending in ways that didn't belong to the world. Its eyes… cunning, patient, ancient.
"You are… different," it whispered, voice slithering into his mind. "Who… who are you, child?"
Vaen's lips curved slightly. Not a smile. Not warmth. Just… understanding. "I am what the heavens feared. What they tried to erase."
The serpent paused. Its eyes narrowed. "You speak… as if you remember. You were born… nothing. Why do you know?"
"I remember what matters," Vaen said. Pause. "And I feel what matters. You… you belong to me."
For a long moment, the serpent hesitated. Then it slithered closer, coiling around him without touching. Shadow within shadows.
Time stretched.
Each breath, each heartbeat, measured, observed, stored. The serpent had been here before. Now… it waited. Because even before he spoke, the world obeyed.
Vaen pushed himself up slowly. His legs shook. His arms trembled. Small. Fragile, maybe—but there was something in him that the air itself seemed to obey. Something that didn't belong to a child.
He reached a hand toward the serpent. Its scales shimmered faintly. Light bent around them, molten and strange.
"Show me," he murmured. "Show me the paths. The hidden things. The blood that flows unseen."
The serpent hissed again, almost like a whisper. The trees, the rivers, the mist—all seemed to bend closer, leaning in, waiting.
Vaen paused. Eyes narrowed. Breath steadying.
He wasn't a child. Not really.
He was something else.
A beginning.
A reckoning.
And far above, in the High Heavens, the gods shivered. They could feel it—a pulse of power they hadn't expected.
The Cry of Heaven hadn't ended.
It had only just begun.