The sky above the city was a single, breathing light.
Neither day nor night—a state in between, as if the world had found balance but hadn't yet decided whether to keep it. The golden network shimmered over the buildings, over walls, trees, people. It connected everything that remained—visible and invisible.
Alaric woke up before the others did. The ground beneath him vibrated gently, in the rhythm of a pulse that wasn't quite his own. He placed a hand on the ground.
"Good morning," he whispered.
No answer. Just a barely noticeable flicker in the light.
He smiled wearily. "I know you can hear me."
"Always."
The voice wasn't a voice, but a feeling—like a warm breath inside him. Lina.
"You've come a long way."
"Not far enough."
"Far enough to understand."
He took a deep breath. "Understand what?"
"That life doesn't dwell in bodies, but in connections."
"Then you are... what? Divine?"
"No. Just complete."
A soft laugh made of pure light. Then silence.
