The Forgeheart Arena had never been this silent.
The rumbling magma veins beneath the stone seemed to quiet themselves, the usual furnace-warm air frozen in a suffocating stillness. Even the reporters—normally the loudest creatures in any crowd—lowered their cameras slightly, fingers hovering over the shutter crystals without pressing them.
Lilliane lay collapsed on the blackstone floor, her body curled in on itself like a frightened child.
Her breath hitched.
Her fingers twitched.
Her lips quivered with words that shouldn't have been spoken aloud.
"Aiden… no…"
"You can't do this to me…"
"You… you cannot abandon me…"
Her voice was so thin it barely reached the front row.
But to Luca—it felt like a dagger.
He hit the arena floor first, landing with a hard thud that rattled his bones.
Selena and Sylthara landed a heartbeat later, both skidding across the ground before rushing forward.
"Lilliane!!"
"Lilli—look at me!"
"Wake up! Please!"
But Lilliane didn't wake.
