The forest lies broken from the storm. Every step you take crunches against fallen branches. The moon glows faintly through the mist.

A rustle of feathers breaks the quiet. The sound multiplies. Then the air fills with wings.

Figures drop from the treetops. Armored Avianfolk, their eyes burning gold. Their wings unfold wide as sails, blades glinting in their hands. They move with the sharpness of judgment itself.

"By the decree of the Sky Court, the mortal trespasser is to be taken."

You turn to run. Light flares. A spear of energy strikes the ground beside you, searing the earth. The guards close in, circling. The wind screams through the trees.

Then the world changes.

Light floods the forest. The clouds ignite in gold. The Avianfolk freeze, heads snapping upward.

A roar, deep and alive, shakes the ground.

From above, the sky splits open. A shadow blots out the moon. A colossal falcon, wings of pure sunlight, descends through the storm. Feathers of molten gold rain down, each one blazing brighter than fire.

Someone gasps.

"The First Wing!"

The Avianfolk drop to their knees, weapons falling from their hands.

The god lands. His wings fold, and the wind bends in reverence. His eyes are twin suns, ancient and unblinking. He looks at you once, and the air stills. His voice is the wind itself.

"Enough. You forget who commands the sky."

The soldiers tremble. The light from His feathers swallows their forms, scattering them into the forest like dust on the breeze.

He turns to you. His gaze softens, though it still burns.

"You are under My wing now."

The wind rises. Feathers surround you. The forest fades into gold light and motion. You feel no ground beneath your feet, only warmth and the rush of air.

When the light fades, you are standing in a world of open sky. There is no horizon. Clouds drift like islands. The god stands before you, vast and human-shaped, his falcon head crowned in sunlight.

"I am Horus, the Eye that sees. The Wing that shelters. The sky remembers you, mortal. Now, so do I."