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The battlefield was quiet—for a breath.
Then the silence shattered.
From the crater where the guardian had exploded, black mist surged once more, more condensed, sharper, deadlier. It no longer resembled a beast or a cursed shade.
It had become something worse—a Wraith, a concentrated soul of hatred and sorrow. No body. No weapons. Just a floating, jagged storm of darkness with eyes that burned like twin eclipses.
Elsa stepped back, exhausted, her knees trembling. She'd poured everything into that last strike. Even her connection to Ahtohallan felt strained.
Anna helped her steady. "Elsa, you need to rest—"
"No," Elsa whispered. "It's not over yet."
The Wraith rose silently into the air, pulsing with corrupted power. A voice echoed in their minds—not words, but raw emotion: anguish, betrayal, rage. The truth had been exposed… and the curse refused to die with it.
But then—
Ethan stood.
His leg still bled. His shirt was torn. But his golden energy crackled violently around him now, brighter than ever before. The wind shifted as if reacting to his resolve.
Elsa turned. "Ethan, don't—"
He looked back and smiled, just slightly. "I've got this."
Anna's voice broke. "You'll die."
"Maybe," Ethan said, taking a step forward, light forming around his arms. "But if this thing is the embodiment of the past's pain… then I'll fight it with everything I've built in the present."
The Wraith screeched and dove toward them, a lance of shadow forming in its hand, moving faster than sound.
Ethan met it head-on.
He vanished in a flash of golden light—teleportation—and appeared midair, punching the Wraith in the face with a fist blazing like a sun. The impact made the sky ripple.
The Wraith recoiled but didn't fall.
Ethan spun midair, chaining a blast of golden beams from his palms, hammering the Wraith repeatedly, driving it back across the valley. Each strike echoed like a drumbeat of resistance.
"COME ON!" Ethan roared, his voice fierce. "You want vengeance? Face me!"
The Wraith shrieked and counterattacked, flinging a wave of cursed energy at him.
Ethan raised a barrier midair, golden and circular—it shattered on impact, but slowed the curse just enough for him to twist sideways and blast straight through it.
He spun, gathered energy into his chest, and fired a concentrated beam of pure willpower.
The Wraith screamed, knocked into the mountainside, carving through stone like butter.
But it still rose.
Now it was angry.
It lashed out with dozens of tendrils, each like a blade of night. Ethan weaved through them, teleporting in bursts of light, barely dodging.
A tendril nicked his shoulder. Blood flew.
Another caught his arm. Burned his skin.
He dropped to one knee.
Elsa stepped forward to help—but Anna held her back. "No. He's… he's doing something more."
Ethan stood again, panting. His eyes glowed now—not just with light, but with something deeper.
Determination. Resolve. The will to protect.
He remembered everything—every moment with Anna and Elsa. Every quiet campfire. Every time they had laughed together. The stories. The songs. The silence after a battle. The memory of the truth.
"I'm not like you," Ethan muttered, glaring at the Wraith. "I don't live in the past. I learn from it."
The Wraith shrieked and launched forward.
Ethan charged.
They collided in a storm of light and shadow, their clash cracking the air itself.
The Wraith drove Ethan downward, slamming him into the ground, creating a crater. It lifted a claw to finish him off.
Ethan's hands surged upward—grabbing its arm.
"You're not pain," he whispered. "You're regret. And I won't let you consume anyone else."
He summoned everything.
His golden light erupted like a miniature sun, blinding in its intensity.
The Wraith screamed, trying to retreat—but Ethan held on.
"Now," he said, "you're going to fade."
He dragged the Wraith into the air, higher and higher, the light around him growing until it drowned the sky in gold. A storm of snow and energy whipped around them both.
Elsa, watching, felt her chest ache. "He's burning his life force…"
"He's… sacrificing himself?" Anna's voice cracked.
"No," Elsa whispered. "He's ascending."
Above the valley, Ethan's body blazed like a star. The Wraith lashed and twisted—but it couldn't escape.
With one final, furious cry, Ethan pulled the Wraith in and roared:
"THIS IS FOR ALL OF US!"
And then—
He exploded in a column of radiant energy.
A nova of gold and white.
The shockwave leveled the battlefield. Mist evaporated. Snow blew outward in a cyclone. Trees bent. The dam shook but did not fall.
And when it ended—
Silence.
Nothing of the Wraith remained.
Only falling light… and stillness.
Elsa and Anna ran forward, stumbling over debris, eyes wide, breath catching.
"ETHAN!" Anna screamed.
There, in the center of the scorched ground…
He lay motionless.
His clothes burned, blood streaking his arm—but his chest…
Rose and fell.
"HE'S ALIVE!" Elsa shouted.
They knelt beside him. Anna grabbed his hand.
Ethan opened one eye and smiled faintly. "Still… not dead. Pretty sure I'm immortal now."
Anna laughed through her tears, burying her face into his chest. "Don't ever do that again."
"No promises," he muttered.
Elsa looked up at the sky—now clear, calm, and peaceful. Snow began to fall again—soft, warm.
The curse was gone.
The dam trembled, and with a final groan, a massive crack split it in two. Water surged into the forest, but this time not with violence—but release.
Balance had been restored.
The truth had been honored.
Elsa stood, her hair wild, her body bruised, her soul at peace. She looked at her sister and Ethan—still holding each other—and smiled softly.
"I think it's finally over," she whispered.
Anna nodded, still wiping her tears. "Yeah. We're free."
The forest whispered once more, but this time… it sang.
A song of healing.
Of peace.
Of future.
---
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