The sky above the Dawn Citadel no longer knew peace.Where stars once shimmered faintly, a crimson veil rippled—breathing like a living wound across the heavens.
Rhea, Arden, and Lyn reached the outer ridge by dawn. The air was heavy, thick with molten mana that crackled underfoot.
Umbra's voice coiled in Lyn's thoughts, sharper now. —She has ignited it. The Forge drew too much essence. The Eighth Flame stirs.
Lyn's hand hovered near his blade. "Tell me what that means."
—It means the world is remembering its gods.
They reached the last descent. Below, the citadel burned—not with destruction, but transformation. Light flowed like liquid fire across its stones. The Dawn Creed's followers knelt amid the inferno, untouched, chanting in perfect unison.
At the center stood Solenne, her radiant wings spread wide. Each beat of their light reshaped the air around her, warping it into patterns that defied mortal geometry.
Rhea hissed, "She's channeling directly from the Flame! That much power will tear her apart!"
Lyn's gaze hardened. "Or tear the world."
They advanced through the blaze, Umbra's shadow rippling around them like a living barrier. Every breath burned. Every sound felt like it echoed inside their skulls.
Solenne turned as they approached, her expression calm—almost serene. "You came," she said softly, her voice echoing through flame and air alike. "I hoped you would."
"Stop this," Lyn demanded. "The Flame isn't salvation—it's the same curse that ruined the old world."
Her golden eyes brightened. "And yet it was your rebellion that freed it."
"I freed the world from control. You're rebuilding it with fire."
"Fire is not control," she whispered. "It's rebirth."
The wings flared. A storm of molten symbols spiraled outward, burning into the ground. Each one pulsed like a heartbeat.
Arden swung his blade, cutting through the glow. "You call this rebirth? You're melting reality!"
Solenne lifted her hand. "Reality bends to belief."
Lyn stepped forward, voice steady despite the roar of the storm. "Belief doesn't make gods. It makes prisoners."
Solenne's lips curved into something halfway between pity and admiration. "Then be free again, Shadowborn—free enough to stop me if you can."
The ground ruptured. The Forge beneath her feet screamed—its mana core fracturing as the Eighth Flame surged upward in a pillar of red-gold brilliance. The shockwave threw Rhea and Arden back.
Umbra surged out of Lyn's shadow, forming a towering silhouette with burning eyes. —Containment impossible. She's become a vessel.
Lyn gritted his teeth. "Then I'll break the vessel."
He drew his blade, its edge igniting with black flame. Umbra's essence wrapped around it, weaving darkness and light together until it hummed like a living star.
Solenne's wings expanded until they filled the citadel's dome. Every flicker of her light tore open fragments of the shadow realm, bleeding parallel worlds into view. In those reflections, countless Solennes burned—each one caught in a different act of ascension, failure, or death.
Rhea's voice cracked through the chaos. "She's splitting across layers! If she stabilizes, she won't just lead the Creed—she'll become it!"
Lyn launched forward. Time stuttered around him. He slashed through one reflection—then another—each swing severing a false form. The blade met her real body only once. The impact shattered the air.
Solenne staggered, light spilling from the wound, but she smiled through the pain. "You can't kill fire, Lyn."
He met her gaze, eyes burning with equal fury. "Then I'll teach it to burn itself."
He plunged the blade deeper. Umbra's roar tore through the heavens as the Eighth Flame convulsed, folding inward on itself.
For one terrible heartbeat, everything was light.
When it faded, the citadel stood silent. The banners were ash. The Creed's followers were gone—vanished or transformed.
Only Solenne remained, kneeling amid the embers, wings dim and trembling.
She lifted her head weakly. "You stopped the Flame."
Lyn looked at the still-burning horizon. "No. It stopped itself."
Her eyes glowed faintly—no longer gold, but a pale, sorrowful white. "Then maybe… it finally learned."
Umbra whispered faintly, —Or it's only waiting.
The crimson veil above the sky pulsed once, like a dying heart, then went still.