The Dreamscape trembled.
Elias stood upon a precipice, staring down at a vast chasm filled with fragments of memories and forgotten hopes. The sky above him boiled with storm clouds of ink and flame, and the winds carried distant whispers—some familiar, others alien, all laced with despair.
Behind him, the path he had walked was already vanishing, crumbling into oblivion. Ahead, the bridge of light that connected the remnants of his consciousness to the heart of the Dreamscape flickered, barely holding together. He had come too far, seen too much, and unraveling truths now weighed on him like chains.
Lyra's voice echoed in his thoughts. "What we are is not fixed, Elias. The dream can still be rewritten. But the cost..."
He took a step forward, and the light beneath his feet cracked.
Suddenly, from the edge of the void, a figure emerged.
Cassian.
He looked different—older, weary, his cloak torn and his eyes hollow. But there was a fire in him, a determination Elias remembered from the earliest days of the Dreamwalker Trials.
"You shouldn't be here," Cassian said, drawing his blade. "This place—this moment—was meant to be sealed."
Elias stared at him. "You knew. All this time, you knew the truth about the Dreamlords, about the cycle. Why didn't you stop it?"
Cassian hesitated, guilt flashing across his face. "Because I was afraid. Because I thought I could outsmart the dream without breaking it. I was wrong. But it's not too late to stop you."
The wind howled louder, forming symbols in the air that twisted and warped as they spun. The Dreamscape was rebelling, reacting to Elias' presence.
"I don't want to fight you," Elias said, his hand hovering near the Dream Sigil on his chest.
"Then turn back. Seal the truth away and live a lie."
But Elias no longer feared the truth.
"No. I'm done being a pawn. If I must walk through the storm, so be it."
Cassian roared, and the two clashed.
Their battle rippled through the Dreamscape, waves of surreal energy distorting the world around them. Mountains rose and fell, rivers ran backward, time itself staggered. Elias' blade met Cassian's in bursts of light and thunder. Each strike was more than physical—it was a clash of wills, of memories, of belief.
In the final moments of their duel, Elias disarmed Cassian, holding him at the edge of the chasm.
"End it," Cassian said, eyes closed. "Prove that your truth is stronger than mine."
Elias stepped back.
"I'm not here to destroy you. I'm here to free us all."
A silence settled, broken only by the distant hum of the Dreamcore awakening.
Cassian slowly rose, stunned.
"Then go," he said hoarsely. "Finish what I couldn't."
Elias turned toward the light. Each step he took now brought him closer to the heart of the paradox. Closer to the ultimate revelation. Closer to the end—or a new beginning.
The threshold had been crossed. There was no dream to return to, only the reality he would forge.
And behind him, the Dreamscape wept.