The tear hit the ground.
It vanished into the mud, swallowed by blood and rain.
Kael's body trembled within her arms. Not from weakness — from war raging inside his soul. His hands clenched at his sides, fingers twitching like they couldn't decide whether to reach for her or crush the world around him.
All around them, the battlefield resumed its roar.
The Thorns were being pushed back. Valdran's armor was dented and cracked. Nereza fell from the skies, struck by a holy spear. The Heroes of Velharys had entered the fray.
But Lyra only saw Kael.
"You're still in there," she whispered against his back. "I know it."
He turned.
And Lyra saw his face fully.
His left eye — now fully consumed by the sigil of N'therak — burned like a crimson star. Cracks had begun to form across his cheek, as if his body was breaking apart under divine pressure. His voice, when he spoke, was layered — Kael's sorrow beneath something deeper, colder.
"I remember your warmth. But it's fading."
His hand rose to her cheek, trembling.
"But if you stay… I'll destroy you."
Lyra grabbed his hand and pressed it to her heart.
"Then let me be destroyed. But I'll be the one to decide."
Kael's expression broke for a moment — then twisted.
The ground cracked.
A scream tore through the battlefield — not from any soldier, but from the sky itself. Black lightning split the heavens. A pillar of red flame erupted from the rear of the battlefield — where the Eye cult had gathered unnoticed. They had finished the rite.
The seal had broken.
N'therak stirred.
Kael collapsed to his knees. He clutched his head as a chorus of voices — thousands of lives devoured across ages — screamed through his mind. Blood poured from his mouth. His crown shattered into thorns that floated around him like orbiting blades.
From the cult's summoning point, a being began to emerge.
Not fully formed — just a shape, massive, cloaked in ruin, with a single colossal eye peering across the battlefield.
It looked directly at Kael.
"You were always mine."
Kael's body convulsed.
He looked up at Lyra — tears in one eye, burning ruin in the other — and whispered, voice shaking:
"Lyra… please… kill me."
She froze.
"Before he takes everything. Before I become something I can't come back from. Please—don't let him use me to hurt you."
He gritted his teeth, fighting the surge in his soul.
"End it… before I can't stop myself."
But Lyra shook her head, trembling.
"No."
"Lyra—!"
She cupped his face, eyes brimming with tears.
"I will not be your executioner."
The Eye above widened.
Kael screamed — a sound inhuman and ancient, layered with pain and power. His body twisted. Bones cracked. A surge of darkness erupted from his back, forming massive wings of ruin.
The Thorns rushed in.
Luna and Eclipse reached Kael first, forming a protective line in front of Lyra. Valdran slammed into the earth beside them, bloodied but unbowed.
But Kael rose.
He didn't speak. He simply lifted his hand — and the Thorns were flung back like leaves in a hurricane.
Lyra remained.
"Kael—!"
He turned to her slowly. His eye was fully N'therak now.
"You should have left me in the dark."
He raised his hand toward her.
For the first time in the war — he aimed to kill her.
Lyra didn't move.
A blade intercepted Kael's strike. Sparks exploded.
Valdran stood between them, blade locked with Kael's.
"Then I'll be the one to do it," he said quietly. "You told me once to stop you if you ever lost control. Forgive me… brother."
Kael's face twisted with rage — or sorrow — or both.
The ground beneath them shattered. The heavens bled. The world shook.