Karl lay in the crater, laughing through blood.
Then the laughter stopped.
His eyes went empty, like someone blew out the candle behind them. Golden rings of energy rose from his skin and broke apart into dust. The dust didn't fall—it hung there, then spun into a slow orbit around him, faster, tighter, until it collapsed inward and slammed into his body.
The ground buckled.
Lucy shifted her stance, shoulders square, fists still burning. "So that's the real you."
Karl stood.
No glow, no flare—just pressure. The air around him thickened until the heat of Lucy's flames warped. Veins of white-gold traced his skin like etched constellations. When he inhaled, the clouds above pulled closer. When he exhaled, they rolled back.
"Full release," he said, almost bored. "Let's see if you're still fun."
He vanished.
