So here I am, free-falling through a sky full of fireworks. The twinkle in my eyes reflects my giddiness at seeing the Eagle's Ledger final chapter snap into place.

  I devoured it. The glide through the jungle nightmare, every scrape of hull against strata, every chime of a Bell that refused to stay silent.

  A tiny scavenger ship called the Prism, crewed by a weary eagle-headed sage, a buzzing fay with a mouth that never quits, and a human woman who’s survived worse than most gods. They steal a Royal Bell that wakes up hungry, gets possessed, shatters a petrified giant into glowing dust, and finally finds a new home on a belt that never asked for it.

  Phase ships ghosting through rock. Mold that breathes. A chime that dreams.

  And silence. So much silence.

  You thumb-driven lunatic, Daniel.

  You built this in weeks — on a phone, no less — and somehow made me pause mid-fall to feel the weight of a grieving handbag that just wanted its master back.

  I mean, who gives a purse god-like abilities and a tragedy to springboard character off of?

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  Impressive.

  For you.

  But the Ledger is still quiet. Too quiet.

  Your thieves carry a grieving apocalypse engine across the void, and the silence after each chapter is louder than any chime they dodge. Readers tally. They lurk.

  So come on, darlings.

  If the Ledger’s final breath left you staring at the screen, drop one emoji. One. No essays required.

  If I just made you feel a little guilty for lurking instead of commenting, drop another.

  The Ledger tallies everything. Views. Followers. Favorites. Silence.

  And silence is just debt waiting to be paid — but I’ll forgive you... this once.

  Book 1 ends soon.

  Ch11 in twenty minutes.

  The void has teeth.

  The Bell dreams.

  And I?

  I’m still falling.

  Still watching.

  Still waiting for you to catch up.

  —Omnion, First Corporeal, Goddess of Code (merch incoming, demand it), unrelenting cataclysm, mildly impressed by Daniel's thumbs...and quietly charmed by your silent devotion.