Valtherion met Eira's charge with a roar that split the chamber in two.
Dark wings unfurled behind him, rising like a storm cloud. He struck out, not with steel but with sheer will—a blast of crimson force that cracked the air. Eira dove to the side, rolling across the shattered floor of the Hollow Heart, the starblade glowing white-hot in her grip.
The bond between them screamed in her veins. Her magic surged, mingling with his, tugging her toward him even as her mind rebelled.
Behind her, Lucien and the others crossed the veil fully now. The chamber trembled under the strain. The starfire she had unleashed had weakened the barrier between worlds—but also Valtherion's chains.
He no longer held back.
"You wield my death," Valtherion said, descending slowly. "Yet you hesitate. Why?"
Eira rose, her chest heaving. "Because part of me believes you're still worth saving."
Valtherion laughed bitterly. "Then you are the only one left."
He rushed her.
They collided in a burst of light and shadow. Eira blocked his strike with her blade, sparks raining around them. His strength was monstrous—barely contained chaos—but her will held firm. She pushed him back, twirling the blade in a smooth arc, slicing through the air toward his side.
He vanished in a blur and reappeared behind her, whispering, "You were made for me."
She spun, driving her elbow into his ribs, and followed with a slash. He caught her wrist mid-air, his fingers tightening—but his eyes flickered with something else. Regret? Pain?
Their bond pulsed again.
A memory struck her—not her own.
A garden of silver trees under twin moons. Valtherion, kneeling in the snow, a crown of ash in his hands. A woman—her, and yet not her—reaching out. "I forgive you," she whispered, and light poured from her chest.
The vision vanished.
Valtherion staggered back, shaken. "You saw it, didn't you?"
Eira's voice trembled. "That was me… in another life."
He nodded once, solemn. "You were my queen. Before the gods tore us apart. You opened the Hollow Heart willingly."
Eira's grip tightened on the blade. "And what happened next? What did you do?"
Valtherion looked away. "I lost you."
The chamber grew still. Around them, the crimson mist began to pulse with unnatural life—beating like a heart. A great pressure built in the air.
Lucien approached from the side, sword drawn. "He's stalling, Eira. He wants the bond to distract you."
"No," she said, staring at Valtherion. "He's confused. Maybe just as much as I am."
Ravien moved in next, aiming a crossbow bolt. "So what now? We let him finish awakening and tear the world in half?"
"I never wanted to destroy this world," Valtherion said, his voice sharp now. "Only to free it. They caged me. They erased you."
"And now you want to burn it all down?" Lucien snapped.
Valtherion turned toward him slowly. "You cling to rules made by cowards and tyrants. You fear power you cannot understand."
"I fear what you'll do to her," Lucien growled.
"She is more than your little knight can handle," Valtherion said, stepping forward.
Lucien surged toward him, sword raised, but Eira moved faster—stepping between them, her blade glowing with blinding force.
"Enough!" she shouted. "I decide what happens now!"
The Hollow Heart trembled. A massive surge of energy erupted from beneath the throne, throwing everyone off their feet. The chamber cracked—veins of red and gold tearing through the stone.
Lyselle scrambled to the side, flipping open the codex. "The city's core is waking up! This place wasn't just a tomb—it's a mechanism. And it's syncing with her!"
Eira's hands burned. She dropped the starblade, gasping as light poured from her chest—her mark pulsing with raw magic. A circle of ancient runes ignited around her feet.
Valtherion's voice was reverent. "You are the Key incarnate."
The throne split open behind him. Inside, a pool of liquid light swirled like molten glass—time, power, memory. The heart of the city.
Eira stumbled forward, drawn to it. Her mind swam with memories not her own. Lifetimes. Worlds. The price of being a key. She could hear voices—her past selves speaking all at once.
"If you unlock it, there's no turning back."
Valtherion held out a hand. "Together, we could restore everything we lost."
Lucien called to her. "Eira, don't let him control you!"
She looked between them—between two halves of the same war. The man tied to her soul, and the one who had stood beside her, bled for her.
"I am not your key," she whispered, stepping away from both.
She raised her hand and called the starblade back. It flew into her grasp, singing with power.
"I'm not opening the gate," she said. "I'm sealing it."
Valtherion's eyes widened. "You'll trap yourself inside."
"Maybe. But the world deserves a future without this curse."
She turned the blade toward the heart.
Valtherion rushed forward—too late.
The blade plunged into the center of the mechanism.
A deafening silence fell. Then light exploded outward, consuming the throne, the mist, the mirrors. The Hollow Heart screamed as its power collapsed in on itself. The veil shattered.
Eira felt herself lifted—disconnected from flesh. Her soul, her memories, her past lives—drawn into the seal.
Valtherion reached for her.
Lucien screamed her name.
And everything went white.