He began the long walk toward the heart of the Blight, one boot in front of the other, training reality back into existence one heartbeat at a time.
The shard in his hand didn’t just glow. It sang . A new pattern unfolded from his own flawed, bleeding heart. It wasn’t a stone or a drop of water. It was a seed. A tiny, silver acorn that hummed with a warm, steady light. Trainer The Genesis Order
The Sphragis wasn’t a weapon. It was a womb . A Genesis Trainer’s art was to take the raw, howling potential of the chaotic flux—the stuff the Blight created as it unmade things—and train it into new, stable realities. He began the long walk toward the heart
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