The stone courtyard of Leonidas's castle stood quiet under the waning moonlight. Shadows draped the broken pillars and old marble paths, but the presence of power still lingered—tangible, electric.
Megumi stood in the open air, looking down at the firelit floor where Nyx and Medusa sat side by side, sharpening their weapons. Nyx's cold blue eyes flicked up first, sensing him before he spoke. Medusa followed, her serpents coiling in gentle calm.
"You came to check on us?" Nyx asked with a smirk.
Megumi didn't smile.
He stepped forward, hands behind his back, his eyes heavy—not with power, but with something deeper. Something painful.
"I came to say goodbye."
Both women stiffened.
Medusa rose first. "Goodbye?"
"You're not coming?" Nyx added, standing beside her.
Megumi met their eyes. "Leonidas is going to take you both somewhere the gods can't find. You'll be safe there."
Nyx narrowed her gaze. "We're not running."
"You can't fight this war with me," Megumi said. "You'll die. Both of you."
"We know the risk," Medusa said gently. "We made our choice."
Nyx stepped forward. "You once told me that you didn't care if I was born from shadow and blood. That you'd stand beside me no matter what. So I'm standing beside you."
"I'm not asking," Megumi replied.
The divine weight in his voice struck like a thunderclap.
He raised a single hand—and with a flick of his fingers, divine energy swirled into the air and swept over them like mist.
Medusa's eyes widened, her mouth parting to speak—but she never got the words out.
Nyx reached for him, but her legs gave out as her vision blurred.
Seconds later, both collapsed gently to the stone floor, unconscious.
Megumi fell to his knees between them.
He clenched his jaw, staring at them, helpless against the storm of emotion in his chest.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, voice cracking. "But I can't lose anyone else."
He reached out and gently tucked Medusa's hair behind her ear. The snakes didn't stir—they, too, had surrendered to sleep. He touched Nyx's hand and held it tightly for a moment before pulling away.
"I can't go through that again," he said. "Not with you."
Leonidas stepped out from the archway behind them, silent as a soldier long used to grief. He glanced down at the two women, then to Megumi.
"She'll hate you for this," Leonidas said.
Megumi nodded. "I know."
"And the other?"
"She'll understand. One day."
Leonidas bent down and lifted both Nyx and Medusa effortlessly, each cradled in one arm like daughters of war.
"I'll take them to the Hollow."
Megumi turned away, staring into the dark clouds that loomed beyond the horizon.
"Good. Don't tell me where. Just make sure they never feel the gods' gaze again."
Leonidas gave a solemn nod, then opened a portal—a swirling mirror of midnight and starlight—and stepped through it.
The moment it closed, Megumi was alone.
The silence that followed wasn't peace.
It was the stillness before the flood.
He looked at his hand, the one that had cast them into sleep.
It trembled.
"This is the price of power," he thought.
"To fight alone. To lose quietly. To protect with blood."
Megumi looked toward the heavens, the stars burning above like distant eyes.
"What do I do now?" he asked no one.
And yet the wind answered, faintly, as if from the ghost of another time:
"You lead."