The camp was settling into an uneasy calm. Fires flickered in the twilight, casting long shadows over the battered faces of the survivors. Artemis and Elara found a quiet spot near the edge of the enclave, away from the murmurs and bandages.
Elara reached out, her fingers brushing against Artemis's. "You were incredible back there. Fierce and fearless."
Artemis looked down, her glowing claws dimming to a soft red. "I felt like I was losing control. Like the power was about to swallow me whole."
Elara's eyes softened. "You're stronger than you realize. But you don't have to face it alone."
Artemis smiled—a rare, genuine one. "I don't want to."
They leaned closer, the tension of battle giving way to something tender and fragile. The world outside might be broken, but here—in this moment—they found a sliver of peace.
A sudden crackling noise shattered the quiet.
Artemis and Elara sprang apart, eyes searching the dark.
A deep rumble echoed through the ground beneath them.
Nova's voice cut through the night, urgent. "The Rift—it's destabilizing again. Something's coming."
The Beacon pulsed violently on Artemis's wrist, warning of imminent danger.
Artemis clenched her fists, heart pounding. "Not again."
Elara grabbed her arm. "Whatever it is… we face it together."
Above them, the sky tore open, a jagged wound spilling shadows and unearthly light.
The battle was far from over.