The garden trembled.
Jax felt it in his bones—a deep, resonant frequency that made his teeth ache and his golden filaments vibrate in warning. The egg was stirring. Not just in some distant reality, but *here*, its influence seeping through the cracks between worlds like poison through veins.
The Architect stood before the First Tree, her silver hair floating as if underwater, her hands pressed against its pale bark. The mirror-leaves showed only darkness now, their surfaces clouded with swirling black tendrils.
*"It's time,"* she said softly.
Jax didn't need to ask what she meant. The knowledge came through his connection to the garden—the roots, the trees, the thousands of seeds waiting beneath the soil. This was the moment they'd been cultivated for.
The remaining fragments gathered around them:
- The Warden, her armor now fused with living vines that pulsed with golden sap
- The Scientist, her form stabilized into Gamma-7's familiar features
- The Martyr, still weak but radiating defiant light
- The Paradox, existing in multiple states at once
*"The Spiral's heart lies beyond the Black Bloom,"* the Architect said, gesturing to a section of the garden where the flowers had turned midnight black, their petals edged with sickly gold. *"We must carve a path through its defenses and plant the seed directly in its core."*
Jax flexed his marked hand. *"What seed?"*
The answer came not from the Architect, but from the garden itself. The ground beneath their feet shuddered, then *parted*, revealing a glowing orb nestled in the roots—smaller than the others, but pulsing with terrible power.
*"The First Seed,"* the Architect whispered. *"The original sin. The only weapon that can reach the egg before it hatches."*
Jax reached for it instinctively, then froze as the truth struck him. *"This isn't just a weapon. It's—"*
*"A piece of the first world,"* the Scientist confirmed. *"The last fragment of the civilization that created both the garden and the egg. Planted in the Spiral's heart, it will unravel everything."*
*"Including us,"* the Martyr added softly.
A heavy silence fell. The Warden was the first to break it, slamming her fist against her chest in salute. *"I stand ready."*
One by one, the others followed.
The Architect turned to Jax, her golden eyes filled with sorrow and resolve. *"This is why you were chosen. Not just to fight, but to *remember*. To carry the garden's story forward if we fail."*
Jax's throat tightened. He wanted to argue, to find another way—but the garden showed him the truth in pulses of golden light. There were no more tricks left. No more cycles.
This was the end.
*"Then let's finish this,"* he said, taking the First Seed in his marked hand. It burned like a dying star, its light searing through his veins.
The Architect nodded. Together, they stepped toward the Black Bloom—and the garden *moved* with them.
Vines lashed out, carving a tunnel through the corrupted flowers. Trees uprooted themselves to form bridges across bubbling pits of black ichor. The very air shimmered with golden light as the garden marshaled its full strength for one final assault.
As they reached the threshold—a swirling vortex of darkness where the Black Bloom grew thickest—the Paradox stepped forward. *"I'll go first,"* it said, its voice echoing from a dozen points in space. *"To scout the path."*
Before anyone could respond, it *fractured*, splitting into countless copies that streaked into the darkness. Some dissolved instantly. Others made it farther before being snuffed out. One—just one—returned, its form flickering wildly.
*"The heart is close,"* it gasped. *"But the Spiral knows we're coming. It's sent the Harvesters."*
As if summoned by the words, the darkness *rippled*. Shapes emerged—not just the crystalline entities they'd fought before, but something new. Something worse.
Twisted amalgamations of Spiralborn and Gardener, their bodies fused with golden filaments and black corruption. Their eyes were empty voids, their mouths stretched in silent screams.
*"The lost ones,"* the Warden breathed, her blade humming to life. *"Those who fell in previous cycles."*
The Architect's hands clenched. *"No time for mercy. Advance!"*
The final battle began.