The Sevarin moved first.
A flicker.
Then sound vanished.
The air imploded, twisting around the beast's descent. Each of its iron-feathered wings scraped the Veil itself, screaming static into Liora's bones. It landed with the force of a meteor, and still—still—it bowed before Mavrek like a loyal hound.
Liora didn't move. She couldn't afford to flinch.
The White Circle didn't blink either. Dozens of Veil-scarred zealots stood silently, as if witnessing a long-awaited prophecy.
This was their moment.
But it wasn't hers.
Not yet.
Mavrek extended his hand to her again.
"Surrender," he said, soft like a lullaby. "And I'll let your friends die painlessly."
Thalia raised her head at that, blood trailing from her ears. "Liora… don't you dare."
She didn't.
She smiled instead.
It wasn't comforting.
It was a warning.
Liora whispered a word she hadn't dared use since the Soul-Fusion—one buried in the deepest part of Alric's memory. One that wasn't meant for humans to speak aloud.
The ground answered.
Veins of light erupted beneath her feet. Ancient glyphs scorched themselves into the stone, glowing white-hot, and for a moment, even the Sevarin stepped back.
"No more running," she said. "No more mercy."
Then she called the Echoes.
They came screaming from beyond the Veil—wraiths of memory and magic bound to her will, tethered by soul and sacrifice. They poured from her like water from a dam, taking form around her body in wisps and chains, dozens of them—fragments of past lives, fused spells, raw memory turned weapon.
The White Circle surged forward.
Vex moved first, a blur of arcane tattoos flashing like lightning across his skin. He struck a cloaked figure clean across the jaw, shattering the skull beneath with a single punch. Iskar was a wall of flame and swordplay, carving bodies in elegant arcs. Even Thalia, bleeding and dazed, hurled spears of psychic force through the ranks with trembling hands.
It was chaos.
No—war.
And at the center, Liora walked toward Mavrek like a storm given shape.
The Colossus rose behind him, unchained, its four screaming faces weeping black flame. It lashed out, crushing allies and enemies alike.
Liora raised her hand—and the Echoes consumed the flame.
Twisting it.
Bending it.
Feeding it back.
The beast shrieked and staggered.
For the first time, Mavrek looked... surprised.
"You've mastered it," he murmured. "The fusion. The memory chain. Even the rites."
"You left me no choice."
"You had a choice." His voice cracked like glass. "You chose them."
Liora stared at him. "You always thought this was about power. But this—" she gestured around them, at the blood, the fire, the war "—this is about who we become when we have it."
Mavrek's smile faltered.
Then shattered.
He lifted both hands—and the Sevarin attacked.
It was like fighting a nightmare with rules you didn't understand.
The Sevarin blinked in and out of reality, its talons tearing through spells before they formed. Its wings knocked down entire cliffs. One of its roars turned half the battlefield to glass.
And still, Liora fought.
Every spell she had.
Every Echo she could command.
She called down the light of forgotten stars. She whispered a ritual that burned years off her life just to slow the beast.
She reached within, grabbing onto the core of the Soul Fusion—the raw tether between herself and Alric—and unleashed the full memory torrent in a single pulse.
The Sevarin stopped.
Froze.
Just long enough.
Vex leapt forward, both arms covered in cursed runes, and plunged his bare hands into the Sevarin's chest.
The explosion tore him apart.
No final words.
No slow goodbye.
Just a flash of red, a scream swallowed by the wind, and pieces of a man who'd fought beside her since the forest ruins.
Liora screamed.
And the Echoes screamed with her.
They surged outward in a ring of violence—dismembering the White Circle's remaining guard, cracking the earth, and knocking Mavrek to his knees.
But it was too late to save Vex.
Too late to undo the dead.
She fell to her knees, trembling.
Across the crater, Mavrek stood slowly, one side of his face burned, the other still smiling. "He was brave," he said. "But you were stupid to care."
And that's when the Veil tore completely.
It didn't shatter.
It peeled.
Like skin off a wound.
Above them, reality split into layers—revealing ghost cities, shadowed giants, rivers made of screams and wings, and something massive watching from the dark between.
The White Circle began to scream.
Because they hadn't expected this.
They hadn't understood what it meant to win.
And now they couldn't stop it.
Mavrek turned toward the rupture, awe in his eyes. "This is it," he whispered. "The new world."
Liora whispered something back.
Then stabbed herself.
A ritual dagger, hidden in her robes.
Blood poured, glowing.
Not red—silver.
Soul-touched blood.
The sacrifice lit the glyphs again, brighter than before.
Alric's voice, buried deep in her thoughts, wept.
And the Echoes moved again.
But this time, inside her.
All of them.
Every spell.
Every memory.
Every mistake.
The Veil responded—not by opening further.
But by pulling back.
For a second, it was like time reversed.
And everything—everything—paused.
Mavrek turned, slowly.
His voice was quiet. "What did you do?"
Liora rose, eyes glowing with the full weight of what she had become.
Not a wielder.
Not a priestess.
A living seal.
And her voice was steady.
"I ended your prophecy."