The sun rose, veiled in smoke.
The battle was over, but its echoes remained.
The forgehouse, once a haven of magic and memory, now stood scarred—its walls cracked, its roof partially collapsed, and the smell of scorched sigils lingering in the air like grief.
Altharion moved slowly through the ruins. Each step stirred dust and memory. His robes were torn, his aura dimmed. But he was alive.
More importantly, so were his disciples.
He found Selene by the outer warding ring, overseeing the repairs.
"Status?" he asked quietly.
She didn't look up. "Two injured. No fatalities. We lost six glyph-layers, and half our core crystals are drained. But the structure will hold. For now."
Altharion nodded. "You led well."
She finally turned to him. "We only survived because you didn't hold back."
He said nothing.
Because holding back was no longer an option.
Elsewhere - Duskfall's Inner Districts
Whispers moved faster than light in the underbelly of Duskfall. News of the Obsidian Choir's retreat had spread, twisted and retold in a dozen ways.
Some said the Archon had summoned dragons of flame.
Others believed he had bound a god to his will.
All agreed on one thing:
He could not be stopped.
In taverns and market stalls, his name was etched into conversation.
Rebel groups began forming in secret. Old sigils resurfaced. Forgotten creeds were uttered again in candlelit basements.
Not all who rallied knew his name. But they knew the symbol.
The Rune of Becoming.
And they followed it.
Celestial Dome - The High Conclave
The chamber was silent save for the rhythmic ticking of the Starclock.
Helios stood before the Conclave, eyes sunken but focused.
"We have failed to eliminate him twice," one of the elders said. "Perhaps we should consider negotiation."
"Negotiate with a heretic who commands death like breath?" Helios snapped. "He's building an army. One spark away from igniting a full revolt."
"He was a god once," another murmured. "Perhaps he is again."
Helios stepped forward. "Then we remind the world: gods can bleed."
Back in the Forgehouse - Council of Flame
Altharion gathered his disciples for the first true council since his return.
They sat in a rough circle around the reforged brazier, its flames crackling with runic light.
"I will not lie to you," Altharion began. "They will return. And next time, they will come not to silence us, but to erase us."
Murmurs rippled through the group.
"But we have a choice," he continued. "We can run. Or we can rise."
He opened a scroll—maps of the city, marked with leyline intersections, hidden conduits, resistance cells.
"I have waited lifetimes for this. You have trained, bled, and awakened. Now we take the next step. Not in hiding, but in the open. We claim not just survival—"
He pressed his palm to the scroll. The Rune of Becoming flared across the table.
"—but destiny."
The disciples rose, one by one.
Selene stepped beside him. "Then let it begin."
He nodded.
"Tonight, we light the pyres."
Final Scene - Deep in the Hollow Earth
In a chamber lined with bones and echoing with forgotten prayers, a single figure meditated.
Lysaria.
Her eyes snapped open.
"He's no longer hiding," she whispered.
She rose, wrapping herself in starlight.
"Then neither shall we."