The light from the sword did not fade—it expanded.
It swallowed the chamber whole.
And in that light, Amina saw everything.
---
Visions of the First Flame
A battlefield scorched and screaming.
A woman cloaked in gold—Amariel—kneeling with the same sword embedded in her chest.
Above her, the sky burned with winged shadows—phoenixes, corrupted and falling.
Behind her, a gate of black obsidian pulsed with hunger.
"Do not forget," Amariel whispered.
Then the world shattered.
---
The Awakening
Amina opened her eyes with a gasp.
The sword was in her hands now.
It weighed nothing.
And everything.
The chamber trembled, lines of light streaking outward from the pedestal to the walls.
Kai touched one of the glowing glyphs. "What did you see?"
Amina stood, eyes glowing faintly. "Amariel's end. And the beginning of the corruption."
Ashar leaned against the wall, pale. "So this blade is the key?"
"No," Amina said. "It's a question. The Gate will ask, and only this can answer."
---
Meanwhile – The Red Circle Convenes
In the ruins of a city swallowed by sand, the leaders of the Red Circle gathered in secret.
The Weavers. The Pale King. The Thorn-Binder. The last of the Hollow Lords.
"She has the sword," one hissed.
"She walks the path," another whispered.
"She will fall," the Pale King said, "unless she chooses differently than Amariel."
A shadow stirred in the corner.
"And if she doesn't?"
"Then we claim what the flame rejected."
---
Back in the Mountains
Their path down the mountain was no easier than the climb.
Storms churned above them unnaturally.
The wind whispered secrets—names that hadn't been spoken in centuries.
Lumeah stumbled. Valec caught her.
"I feel… memories," she murmured. "Like the mountain remembers Amariel. And it's watching us."
They descended into a valley veiled in mist.
At the heart of it: a shrine made of bones and petrified roots.
Kai stopped short. "Why does this feel like a trap?"
"Because it is," Valec said quietly.
From the mist, a figure stepped forward.
His face was familiar.
Too familiar.
Ashar froze. "That's my father."
---
Echoes of the Past
Ashar's father had died in the first Purge War.
Yet here he stood—eyes glowing with emberlight, smile twisted with pain.
"This isn't real," Ashar said. "You're not him."
The figure tilted its head. "Aren't I? You carry his regrets. His blood. His silence."
Ashar stepped forward, blade drawn. "You died protecting me. You don't get to wear his face."
The figure flickered—and multiplied.
Dozens of copies stepped from the fog, each one wearing a face from their pasts.
Lumeah's lost sister.
Kai's murdered mentor.
Even Valec saw something—though he did not name it.
Only Amina was left untouched.
"They're trying to break us," she said, raising the sword.
It pulsed once—and the illusions screamed.
Amina swept the blade in an arc of light, severing the tether between memory and corruption.
The shrine cracked.
And in the center was a hidden stairwell, descending into darkness.
---
The Gate Approaches
As they descended, Amina whispered, "We're close."
Valec nodded. "Too close. The realm is thinning. I can feel the pull of the other side."
Kai narrowed his eyes. "What's on the other side?"
Amina met his gaze. "The truth Amariel died to hide. And the thing she couldn't kill."
---
Elsewhere – The Phoenix Reborn
Tarin stood alone in a ruined temple, flames crawling along his skin like veins.
The Phoenix inside him stirred.
It spoke in a voice made of thunder.
"She will fail if you do not choose."
Tarin looked to the east, where the sky was bleeding red.
"Then show me," he said.
He opened his arms—and the Phoenix entered him completely.
Fire exploded outward, setting the entire temple ablaze.
And from it, Tarin emerged.
Reborn.