May hits solid ground hard enough to knock the air from her lungs.
Cold stone. Damp air. The faint smell of moss and old magic.
She coughs—once, twice—blinking against the ringing in her ears.
The world spins.
The light fades.
The Veil is gone.
Nathel lands beside her with a groan, one hand braced against the cracked floor of the shrine chamber. His glow dims slowly, the golden threads fading from his skin like dying constellations.
"May—are you hurt?" he asks, voice hoarse.
She tries to breathe.
Fails.
Tries again.
Finally gets out:
"I… I'm okay. I think."
But her heart is racing too fast—her chest buzzing painfully. The bond is still there, burning bright and wild, like a storm trapped in her ribcage.
Nathel notices.
His face tightens.
"It's stronger," he murmurs.
"Much stronger."
Before she can answer, a shockwave pulses through her—sharp, electric.
She gasps and drops to her knees.
Nathel is instantly there, arms around her, steadying her before she collapses.
"May!"
"I—I don't know what's happening," she whispers, clutching his shirt. "It feels like it's pulling me in every direction."
Nathel swallows hard.
"It's because we completed it. In the Veil."
The words make her stomach twist.
"Completed?"
Her voice shakes.
"What does that even mean?"
Nathel shakes his head.
"I don't know. I've only ever heard stories. Legends. None of them ever said what happens after."
Another pulse strikes her—harder this time.
She cries out.
Nathel pulls her into his chest, holding her as if he could shield her from her own heartbeat.
"Breathe with me," he murmurs.
"It's okay. I've got you."
But May's vision is blurring around the edges.
The chamber tilts.
The bond roars louder and louder—
—then silence.
A terrifying, empty silence.
Her breathing stops.
She doesn't feel the floor beneath her.
Or Nathel's hands.
Or anything.
Just cold.
Nathel's voice grows distant.
"May? May—LOOK AT ME!"
She can't.
She can't open her eyes.
She can't move her fingers.
She hears him curse under his breath, emotion cracking through it.
"No, no, no—stay with me—May, please—"
Her pulse thins.
Then—
Something else stirs in the dark.
A hum.
A whisper.
A presence.
Not the creature from the Veil.
Something older.
Something waiting.
A voice—not spoken, not heard—brushes against her consciousness like fingertips on glass:
"Half-Heart… the door is open."
May's eyes snap open.
She inhales sharply—
—and the chamber explodes with golden light.
Not Nathel's.
HERS.
Nathel stumbles backward, shielding his eyes as the light pours from May's skin, from the bond mark spiraling across her heart, from the floor beneath her.
"May?"
His voice is small.
Scared.
She rises from the ground without meaning to—lifted by something she can't control.
Her feet hover inches above the stone.
Her eyes glow.
Her pulse steadies into an inhuman rhythm.
Nathel stares up at her, wide-eyed.
"What's happening to you?" he whispers.
May tries to answer.
She can't.
The voice inside her answers for her:
"She is awakening."
The golden light flares violently—
and the chamber walls begin to crack.