The wind bit at Egill's cloak as he entered an ancient ruin where forgotten runes pulsed beneath his feet. He hated unanswered questions—and this place was full of them.

He knelt beside an ash-filled basin, pouring a dark liquid into it before singing a spell that felt older than memory. The runes along his arms glowed. Blood touched his lips. The floor trembled.

Silence.

Then a deep, ancient breath.

The ash vanished, leaving behind a single unfamiliar name.

“I've paid in blood and time,” Egill said, jaw tight. “You promised answers.”

The air split open.

Something stepped through.

Without turning, Egill whispered, “Tell me what I've bought... and what it will cost.”