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December

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DO-160() Standards & Training

The Rain-walker reached into her cloak and withdrew a small vial filled with something that defied the gray world: a single drop of , preserved in glass.

“For what?” Corvin asked.

Degrey laughed—a wet, gasping sound. “You think I haven’t tried? Every day for four years, I’ve raised this hand and spoken the command. ‘Let the door be shut.’ It doesn’t work. Because the curse isn’t broken by light alone.”

Liss, the child, saw something the others could not: shapes moving in the downpour. Figures, dozens of them, walking in slow circles around the party. Dullknight victims who had completed their transformation.

“For us to join.” The Needle of Noon had once risen three hundred feet—a spiral of enchanted glass and silver filigree. Now it was a shattered husk, leaning at a fifteen-degree angle, its interior flooded with rain that fell upward from a crack in its foundation.

This is the first part of a chronicle—a record of ruin, resilience, and the three doomed families who tried to break the storm. We begin with the man they called . Chapter One: Degrey’s Last Dawn It is said that Degrey was not born under a cloudy sky. As a young mage of the Solarium Order, he commanded light itself—weaving sunbeams into barriers, refracting dawn into weapons. But power invites envy, and envy invites curses.

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