You did it," he said.
"No," Elara replied. "We did. But the war's not over."
A beat passed. Then she looked at both of them.
"I loved you both in different lives. But now, I have to find out who I am in this one."
They said nothing.
But both stayed close.
Outside, across the stars, a signal blinked on.
The Fourth Seed… had just woken up.
The Wraith hovered in low orbit over Ceryne's dead moon, its hull scorched, silent—like it, too, was holding its breath after what had been unleashed.
Inside the medbay, Elara sat alone, bathed in the sterile glow of a diagnostic scanner. Bruises lined her arms, a shallow cut traced her cheek, and a microfracture along her collarbone pulsed with ache. Superficial damage, the scanner noted. But machines couldn't register what mattered.
The Third Seed now lived inside her.
