One Year Later:
A small town sat at the edge of the new world.
Children played near the roots of the Elder Tree, which had begun to blossom again. Traders crossed the bridges that spanned the once-dead canyons. Laughter replaced the silence that had ruled for centuries.
In the center of it all stood a monument. Not to Jack. Not to the war.
But to a choice.
Its inscription read:
"To those who remembered. To those who chose. To those who dared to write the end their own way."
Jack stood beside it, cloak blowing gently.
Aelira approached, holding a bundle of letters. "You've got visitors."
"More Guardians?"
"No," she smiled. "Just friends."
Kael waved from a distance. Nyssa was already halfway up a hill, yelling something about dinner.
Jack smiled.
And as the sun dipped beyond the horizon, painting the sky in gold and violet—
He whispered, "Let it begin."