Ash still lingered in the wind, swirling through the broken streets of Emberlane like ghostly remnants of the past. Elira stood in the aftermath, fists trembling, the heat from her gauntlets humming against her skin. The flames that had roared from her soul just moments ago now smoldered low, casting an eerie orange glow on the cracked ground.
She didn't speak.
She didn't move.
She remembered.
Kael's wounded voice still echoed in her ears. His warning. His desperation. The subtle betrayal in his eyes when he saw what she had done. What she had become.
A girl made of ash and promises.
Behind her, Dante limped toward the wreckage, his armor scraped, cloak tattered, and blood painting his right arm. He glanced around—at the shattered stone, the blackened corpses of the Arcane Guards, and at Elira, standing like a broken statue carved by fire.
"You didn't have to go that far…" he muttered, wiping the blood from his brow.
Elira didn't turn to face him. Her voice, when it came, was low—like fire buried deep underground.
"They took everything from me. Again."
Dante clenched his jaw. "And what now? You torch the city piece by piece until the world fears your name?"
"No," she whispered, almost to herself. "I burn through whatever path leads me to the truth."
A pause.
Then, from the shadows of the ruined corridor ahead, slow footsteps echoed. Kael emerged, face bruised, eyes wary. There was something heavier in his expression now—not just pain, but uncertainty. Conflict.
"Elira," he said. "There's something you need to see."
She narrowed her eyes. "Is this another lie?"
He shook his head. "No. It's the truth your parents died protecting."
The words sliced through the haze of rage. Her heart skipped. A crack formed in her armor—not the one on her body, but the one she'd built around her soul.
Dante stepped forward. "We don't have time to play games, Kael."
Kael's eyes didn't waver. "Then follow me."
With a glance behind her, Elira extinguished the last ember from her gauntlet. The silence between the three of them pulsed with tension, history, and the ghosts of promises unkept.
Then, together, they walked into the dark corridor of the ruins—where answers awaited, and perhaps, the true war would begin.