The chamber was a battlefield of memories and fire.
Kael's fists clashed with his fiery echo, each strike igniting the air. The past version of him fought with reckless abandon—no restraint, no hesitation. Every movement was brutal, fast, honed by pain and power. This was Kael before the bonds, before Lin, before self-control. This was Kael when he believed might alone could carve his destiny.
And it terrified him.
"You were stronger back then," the fire-born echo taunted, ducking under Kael's swing and driving a burning elbow into his ribs. "You wanted to be feared. To be a god among mortals."
Kael staggered but didn't fall.
"I was lost," he spat, steadying himself. "And you… you are nothing but a scar."
The echo grinned—his grin. "Scars remember. Can you say the same?"
Meanwhile, Lin danced across the battlefield, blade flashing like starlight against the echo of lightning. Every strike she parried sent jolts through her body, but her gaze never left Kael. Even as she fought, she sensed it—that Liora was watching Kael's soul, not the battle.
Aelira clashed with the shadow-born Kael, every move a mirror of deception and darkness. But she was unrelenting, her strikes precise, never overreaching. She didn't need to win—only to delay, to buy Kael time to confront what needed confronting.
Kael roared and forced the fiery echo back, eyes flaring with golden light. The seal on his arm shimmered.
"I'm not who I was," Kael said, stepping forward, the heat peeling from his body in waves. "I've made mistakes. I've lost people. I've buried gods. But I've also found purpose. Found them."
He looked briefly at Lin—who was bleeding from a shallow wound but still standing strong—and then at Aelira, who now fought with a bleeding brow and a defiant snarl.
"They made me more than what you remember."
The echo of fire lunged again—but Kael didn't dodge. He caught the blow, fire burning across his skin, and pulled his past self close.
"I remember the pain. But I don't need it to define me."
With a sudden surge, he unleashed a pulse of inner flame—not destructive, but cleansing. The echo screamed, its form unraveling in a burst of gold and red, fading into a single ember that settled into Kael's palm.
The ember pulsed once, gently—like a heartbeat—before dimming. Kael closed his fingers around it, feeling the warmth of reconciliation rather than fury. It was not victory over his past, but integration. Acceptance. A necessary step toward becoming whole.
Lin approached, wincing slightly from her wound, but her expression was resolute. "Is it over?"
Kael looked at the ember, then up at her. "This part is."
Aelira joined them, blood dripping from a cut above her eye, but her posture was unshaken. "You just burned your past into a keepsake. That's either poetic… or terrifying."
Kael allowed himself the faintest smile. "Maybe both."
But before anyone could speak again, the chamber trembled. Not from battle—this was something deeper, older. The runes that once glowed softly across the stone began to pulse rapidly, then fracture, splintering into strands of light that coiled around Kael's sealed arm.
A voice echoed through the crumbling chamber. Not Liora's. Not the echoes'. This voice was deeper, older than memory itself.
"The Pact stirs. The Balance fractures."
The ember in Kael's hand blazed anew, searing his palm before vanishing into his skin. Kael gasped as visions surged through him again: the Throne of Echoes, now empty… and far away, a distant peak where a black tower pierced the sky like a dagger driven into the heart of reality.
At its peak, a throne of ice and bone.
A figure sat upon it—faceless, unmoving—but as Kael's vision locked on, its head turned slowly. Though there were no eyes, Kael felt them settle on him.
"Come," the voice whispered in Kael's soul. "Return what was taken."
The chamber cracked open, light pouring in from the ruptured ceiling above. The shrine, long buried, was releasing them.
Kael stood slowly, still breathing heavily. His gaze hardened. "We're not done."
Lin placed a hand on his shoulder, steady. "Then let's finish it. Together."
Aelira nodded, pulling her blade free of a fallen echo's shadowy remnants. "One throne at a time."
They stepped into the light together, the ruins of the past collapsing behind them. Ahead—across the world, beyond shattered mountains and veils unseen—the Tower Beyond the Veil waited.
And at its summit, the god who had once shattered the Pact now stirred again.