The campfires crackled in the valley, throwing flickers of light against the makeshift banners of the united clans. Around the largest fire, Brent sat cross-legged, his sword across his knees, sharpening the blade not with a whetstone, but with his will — flames whispering up the edge, singing ancient runes awake.
Rae sat beside him, her hands weaving small sigils in the air, practicing precision control. The air between them buzzed softly, the resonance tether binding their cores still warm from the day's drills.
"You know," Rae murmured, glancing at him sideways, "we never actually talked about what comes after."
Brent didn't look up.
"We survive."
She snorted softly.
"That's not a plan. That's a requirement."
She reached over and touched his hand. His fingers, calloused from countless battles, relaxed just slightly.
"When this is over," Rae whispered, "we rebuild. We live. Promise me that, Brent."
His eyes, golden with twilight flame, met hers.
"I promise."
Across the Camp
Lysa sat with the Dreamwalker Miryel, staring into the fire, whispering about what it meant to see time unravel. Miryel's voice trembled as she spoke of branching paths, of lost moments, of how fragile the timeline now was.
"You're more important than you think," Miryel said, touching Lysa's chest.
"You're an ember knot — you hold threads together."
Lysa inhaled sharply. For the first time, she felt not just her brother's shadow, but her own weight in the weave of the world.
The War Table
Later that night, Brent, Rae, and Lysa gathered with the leaders: Kaelorius of the Sky-Kin, the Forge Chieftain, and Miryel. Spread before them, a map of the Nexus Womb glowed faintly, marked with three entry points and six converging ley lines.
"Vaelrick has deployed cloned elites," Kaelorius warned.
"Twisted versions of Kalen, each with fragments of Her."
Rae frowned.
"Then we can't just focus on the core — we'll need split assaults."
Brent traced his finger along the ley lines.
"I'll lead the vanguard. Rae, you and Lysa handle the southern flank with the Dreamwalkers. Kaelorius — sky insertion on the north edge."
Miryel's eyes fluttered.
"Beware… something's coming through the fractures that even Vaelrick didn't summon."
Brent's jaw tightened.
"Then we make sure we're the last line. No matter what crawls through."
A Quiet Moment Before Dawn
Alone, Brent stood at the edge of the camp, staring out into the dark horizon.
Rae joined him, slipping her hand into his.
"You're thinking too loud."
He smirked faintly.
"Can't help it. Feels like we've come too far to lose now."
"We haven't lost yet," Rae said, voice steady.
"And you're not carrying this alone anymore."
Behind them, Lysa approached quietly, wrapping her arms around both of them.
"We're family. We rise together."
Final System Notification:
Event Horizon Approaching
Gate Surge Imminent
Core Level Cap Break Enabled
Brent closed his eyes, flame resonance flickering beneath his skin, shadow infusion humming low, unity form burning bright.
Tomorrow, they would walk into the jaws of the Nexus Womb.
And the world would either shatter — or be reborn.
The ground trembled as the Gate pulsed open. Arcs of crimson lightning shot skyward, ripping holes through the clouds.
Brent led the vanguard forward, Rae and Lysa at his sides, their forces pushing through the warped leyline fields. Around them, twisted monsters—some born of the Nexus, some crafted by Vaelrick—swarmed like shadows with fangs.
System Notification:
Gate Breach Phase One: Engaged.
Core Limits Disabled.
Brent's flame aura surged, wrapping his blade and armor in a roaring halo. Rae's Lunar Aspect danced between shielding and piercing beams, while Lysa's emberlight pulsed stronger, casting wide bursts of healing over the entire force.
The army pressed forward.
Until the Gate… spoke.
Not in words.
Not in sounds.
In memories.
Suddenly, the battlefield blurred—shattered.
Brent staggered back as a memory seized him:
—His father, smiling softly in the forge.
—Rae's hand slipping into his, the first time they'd trained.
—Lysa's laughter as they raced through autumn fields.
He wasn't alone.
Everyone—every soldier—froze, paralyzed, as waves of ancient memories slammed through them.
But it wasn't their memories.
It was the Gate's.
"What is this…?" Rae gasped, clutching her head.
"I can't move," Lysa whispered, eyes wide with terror.
"They're not mine—they're someone else's."
Through the shimmering storm, a figure emerged.
A child.
No older than eight.
White-haired, golden-eyed, barefoot, walking calmly across the broken earth.
"Welcome home," the child said, smiling softly.
And behind the child…
Vaelrick stumbled from a rupture, eyes wide—not in triumph, but in horror.
"No—NO! She's not supposed to be here!"
System Notification:
Unexpected Entity Detected.
ERROR. ERROR. ERROR.
The child raised her small hand—and Brent felt his entire core begin to split.
"You came to open the Gate," the child whispered.
"But you never asked what was waiting on the other side."