In Jarek's hands, the rusted knife burned.
With a violent flicker, Ethan's form of emptiness was drawn toward the blade like iron to a lodestone. Suddenly, the realization hit them both.
It was more than just a knife.
It was a prison.
Jarek's hand was forced toward Ethan's chest as the emerald-veined fingers of the skeleton tightened around the hilt.
"Become the blade," the thorn whispered through Mara's voice.
Ethan didn't flinch.
…..
The roots were screaming.
As if removing a tumor, Mara's dream hands carved into the Star's presence, tearing through the Duskheir's remaining hunger. But the Star wasn't passive, it fought back.
She was attacked by visions.
A future where golden vines strangled the world.
Ethan, hollowed out, a vessel of endless night.
Jarek's skeleton joins the others in the cave.
The Star's voice slithered through her resolve.
"You cannot kill hunger."
Mara laughed, even as the roots tore her dream flesh apart.
"No," she agreed. "But I can starve it."
…..
Jarek's muscles locked as the skeleton used him, guiding the knife toward Ethan's corrupted heart.
Ethan nodded, looking him in the eye.
The blade struck.
For one terrible moment, nothing happened.
Then—
The emptiness burst.
Darkness broke out from Ethan's chest, swallowing the rusted knife whole. His body trembled, his shape dissolving into living shadow strands that wound around the blade to create something new.
When the darkness cleared, Ethan was gone.
All that was left was the knife, its hilt encased in thorny vines, its edge now gleaming with void stuff.
Jarek grabbed it.
The skeleton's hand crumbled to dust.
…..
The sky split beyond the cave, this time rupturing rather than just cracking, as though reality itself had been torn apart.
Jarek did not think twice.
He grabbed the newborn blade and ran.
…..
The roots were dying.
Mara felt the Duskheir's presence fading, the Star's grip slipping as its attention turned outward, toward Jarek and the blade.
Toward Ethan.
This was her chance.
She sank her mind into the center of the gilded thorn.
and pulled herself awake.
…..
Jarek stops at the entrance to the cave.
A nightmare stretched out in front of him, with the air thick with emerald fire, trees uprooted to form hideous sentinels, and the land itself writhing.
Approaching above the crater where Mara had fallen, in the middle of it all...
the Thirteenth Star's eye.
Fully open.
Fully hungry.
The void blade trembled in Jarek's grip. Ethan's voice whispered through it.
"Throw me."
Jarek felt a hand grab his shoulder.
He turned to see Mara, her eyes burning with borrowed starlight, her body half made of gilded thorns.
"Together," she rasped.
Jarek didn't ask how she lived.
Didn't dare.
He put the hilt into her hand.
They clasped the blade between their hands.
And with a scream that shook the earth, they stabbed it into Mara's chest.
…..
For three heartbeats, nothing moved.
Then…
The thorn in Mara's chest bloomed.
The Star's eye was pierced by golden vines that slashes upward. As the void-blade came to life, it drank deeply of hunger and light.
The Star let out a scream.
Then it burst.
…..
Jarek caught Mara as she fell.
The vines were retreating, the gold fading from her eyes. The void-blade was gone, consumed in the ritual.
But the thorn remained smaller now, curled up just above her heart.
Her breath was unsteady.
"Did we...?"
Jarek turned his gaze to the sky.
The rupture was healing, but something remained a presence, watching from beyond.
"No," he admitted. "But we made it hurt."
Mara's laugh turned into a cough.
"Good enough."
In the midst of the darkness, somewhere, a voice that was Ethan but not whispered.
"Rest. I'll keep watch."