Dante's scream shook reality itself, crimson firestorm exploding outward with force that threatened to unmake the world. The eternal flame Selena had given him was burning wild and uncontrolled, merged with his storm into something that couldn't distinguish between creation and destruction, between sparking life and consuming it. He was both phoenix and tempest, but without Selena to anchor him, without her presence to give meaning to the power, he was just chaos incarnate.
Through the firestorm's rage, he felt it—a whisper, barely perceptible, coming from somewhere impossible. From the flame itself. From the power Selena had transferred to him with her final kiss.
*I'm still here,* the whisper said, carrying her voice, her essence, her presence despite her erasure. *I'm not gone. I'm in the flame. I'm woven into what you carry.*
Dante's scream cut off abruptly, shock overwhelming grief. "That's impossible," he gasped. "The curse erased you. You're gone. There's nothing left—"
