The Seal Stone

When the seal stone reaches its true seal, the apocalypse must break. At the end of every apocalypse, lives are lost. To whom does this honor belong?

I ran my finger once around the circle of his tattoo. "Do you feel it?" I asked bitterly. "There's a huge sign right here." If he were to speak bravely, he would probably call it a stamp. Or a curse. "You don't see it, but you feel it. It's right here-a rope wrapped around you." My other hand slipped down Cesur's arm, and my fingers tangled with his. "A web that connects everything," I said, admiring his tattoo.

"Just like me."