The air still shimmered with residual energy as the Rift's glow faded to nothing. The battlefield was littered with shattered stones and fallen foes. Artemis stood tall, her chest heaving, eyes scanning the horizon.
Elara moved beside her, offering a steady hand. "You pushed beyond limits back there. I've never seen anything like it."
Artemis gave a tired smile. "Neither have I. Feels like I'm only just beginning to understand this power."
Around them, the surviving bonded gathered—some wounded, others silent in exhaustion. Lyra knelt beside a fallen comrade, whispering words of comfort.
"We held the line," Artemis said, voice low but fierce. "But the Rift isn't gone forever. It will come back."
Nova approached from the shadows, her expression unreadable. "Your strength is impressive. But strength alone won't keep us safe."
Artemis met her gaze. "No. But together—we might stand a chance."
For a moment, the tension between them softened, replaced by a shared determination.
Elara stepped closer, brushing a stray lock of hair from Artemis's face. "We need to rebuild. Find others like us. Prepare for whatever comes next."
Artemis nodded, feeling the warmth of Elara's touch grounding her after the chaos. "And maybe… find some peace."
They stood side by side, the Beacon on Artemis's wrist pulsing gently—a heartbeat of hope amid the ruins.