Five days since the dagger team departed.
Five days of waiting, watching, and—worst of all—thinking. The silence from the void was deafening. No word. No sign. No way to know if they were alive or dead.
On the sixth day, the cracks appeared.
---
The Argument
It started small. A disagreement between Valdur and Oracle about whether the dagger mission was wise. Then spread. Then exploded.
"—should never have sent them! We need every fighter here!" Valdur's voice shook the temple.
Oracle met his rage with cold calm. "The dagger is our best chance to wound him permanently. You agreed to this."
"I agreed because you made it sound certain. Not a gamble!"
"Nothing is certain in war."
"Don't give me philosophy! Four worlds are dead because we trusted your sight!"
Oracle's ancient eyes blazed. "You think I don't carry those deaths? You think I don't see them every moment I close my eyes?"
"Then maybe you should have seen them coming!"
Silence.
The kind of silence that follows words that can't be taken back.
Lira stepped between them. "Stop. Both of you. This is exactly what the enemy wants."
Valdur's massive frame shook with barely contained fury. "What the enemy wants doesn't matter if we're too busy fighting each other to fight them."
"Then don't fight each other." Theron's voice, still weak from his wounds, cut through the tension. He sat propped against Solara, pale but present. "We lost four worlds. We'll lose more if we keep going like this. But blaming each other—" He coughed. "—blaming each other won't bring them back."
Solara held him tighter. "He's right. We need to focus on what's next, not what's past."
Selene's cold voice emerged from her corner. "Easy for you to say. Your world wasn't among the lost."
Solara's light flared. "My brother almost died. Don't tell me what's easy."
"Enough." Terra's deep rumble shook the chamber. "All of you. Enough."
The oldest goddess rose from her stone seat, moving with the weight of mountains.
"I have watched civilizations rise and fall for longer than any of you. I have lost worlds, loved ones, hope itself—more times than I can count." Her ancient eyes swept the room. "Grief does not excuse cruelty. Fear does not justify blame. We are all that remains. We must be better."
Silence fell.
Not the broken silence of before. Something else. Shame, maybe. Recognition.
Mira spoke quietly. "Terra's right. We can't afford to fracture. Not now."
Valdur looked away. "Then what do we do?"
"We wait. We prepare. We trust the team we sent." Mira met each of their eyes. "And when they return—with the dagger or without—we're ready to move."
---
Lyra's Burden
In another chamber, Lyra stared at screens that showed nothing.
Five days of no contact. Five days of running calculations, probabilities, worst-case scenarios. Five days of watching dots that should have been moving but weren't.
Darius found her there.
"You look like hell."
"Thanks."
He pulled up a chair. Sat beside her. "Any word?"
"Nothing. They're in the void—can't send messages, can't receive. We won't know until they come back or..." She trailed off.
"Or they don't."
"Yeah."
They sat in silence for a while.
"You know it's not your fault, right?" Darius said eventually. "The four worlds. The intelligence failure. None of that was you."
Lyra laughed—bitter, broken. "I'm the intelligence chief. If I miss something, people die. That's literally the definition of my fault."
"The Network has been building for centuries. The first immortal has been hiding his plans for longer than any of us have been alive. You can't catch everything."
"I should have caught something."
Darius was quiet for a moment. Then: "You know what Ren would say?"
"That I'm doing my best?"
"No. He'd say you're human. And that's okay." Darius met her eyes. "He'd also say blaming yourself doesn't help the people who died. But learning from it—making sure it doesn't happen again—that does."
Lyra stared at him.
"Since when did you get wise?"
"Always was. You just weren't listening."
She laughed—real this time, surprised out of her. "You sound like him."
"Maybe we're all rubbing off on each other." He stood. "Get some rest. The screens will still be here tomorrow."
She nodded. Didn't move.
Darius left her to her vigil.
---
Vera's Mission
In Echoes, Vera walked among her people.
The sound-mages had taken heavy losses in the last battle. Families mourned. Children asked questions no one could answer. Vera moved through them like a ghost, offering what comfort she could, carrying grief that wasn't hers alone.
An elder stopped her. Old, blind, wise.
"You carry too much, child."
"I carry what I must."
"No. You carry what you choose." The elder's sightless eyes seemed to see right through her. "The dead don't need your guilt. The living need your strength."
Vera closed her eyes. "I don't know if I have any left."
"You do. It's just buried." The elder touched her cheek. "Find it. For them. For yourself."
Vera walked on.
But something shifted. The grief didn't lift—couldn't lift, not yet. But the weight... the weight felt slightly more bearable.
---
Sarah's Struggle
On Earth, Sarah faced her own battle.
Governments demanded answers. Media screamed for stories. Populations oscillated between fear and denial. She moved through it all like a diplomat, a general, a spokesperson—roles she'd never asked for, never wanted.
A late-night call with Lyra helped.
"They don't understand," Sarah said. "They can't understand. They haven't seen what we've seen."
"Then show them." Lyra's voice was tired but steady. "Not the horrors—the hope. The people we're fighting for. The worlds we're trying to save."
"And if they still don't believe?"
"Then they're not ready. But some will. Some always do."
Sarah nodded. "When did you get so good at this?"
"Practice. Lots of practice."
---
Ren's Team – The Void
Meanwhile, in the darkness between worlds, five figures moved toward their target.
Selene's cold protected them from void-touch. Noctis's shadows hid their passage. Ignis's inner fire kept them warm. Mei Lian and I moved at the center, bond blazing, holding the team together.
"How much further?" Ignis asked.
Noctis consulted shadows. "Hours. Maybe less. The vault senses us—it's adjusting its defenses."
Selene's voice was tight. "Can we still succeed?"
"We can try." I looked at each of them. "That's all we've ever done."
Mei Lian squeezed my hand. The bond carried her faith, her fear, her love.
We moved on.
---
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
Status: Alliance fractured but healing. Dagger team en route.
Time Remaining: 285 days