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In Nirren-Kai, the gods don’t answer prayers. They brand you as a kid and own you for life.
Cal Mercer’s brand failed. Three times on the temple slab, and nothing took. His mother killed herself the same week. By fifteen, he’d burned through every black-market method he could find, beg, or bleed for, and the system still didn’t recognise him.
Then something ignited. Not a godpath. Something older. Hungrier. Something that doesn’t answer to any god in the city.
The Vault, Ring Seven’s most dangerous criminal operation, wants to weaponise him. The Broken Mark Syndicate wants to dissect him. The gods want him erased.
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