The warzone burned like a second sun. Firestorms of plasma and shards of crystallized reality tore across the field, as if the galaxy itself had cracked under the pressure of three crowns of power.
Kaelen pressed forward, blade dragging sparks from the Dominion's armored guard, when Admiral Veyric himself descended into the fray. The Admiral's presence was like a fortress made flesh—calm, unyielding, his every movement commanding the tide of war.
"You're no soldier," Veyric said coldly, parrying Kaelen's strike with his saber, its edge glowing with charged ion fields. "You're an intruder in a war of kings."
Kaelen met the Admiral's steel, teeth bared. "I'm no king. But I'll bleed one if I must."
Their clash sparked ripples that scattered soldiers like leaves.
Meanwhile, Seer Azhira watched, her veil drifting in unseen winds. Her eyes—two galaxies caught in endless rotation—were fixed not on the battle, but on Lyra. She whispered to her disciples, and dozens rose into the air, their hands weaving in unison, threads of light converging into a prison around the Seedbearer.
Lyra gasped as the net of energy constricted. Every strand sang with echoes of futures she had not yet lived. "Kaelen!"
He turned, but the Harbinger struck first. His great axe cleaved into the ground between them, splitting earth and stone in a blazing arc. His voice thundered:
"Enough! The Seed is mine. Your lives are dust beneath my war!"
Kaelen barely rolled aside as the weapon struck again, gouging a trench deeper than a starship's hull. The Harbinger's eyes blazed like coals, his rage feeding the monstrous energy flowing through him. His beasts swarmed, tusks and claws snapping, driving the Dominion and Seer's disciples back alike.
In the chaos, the unthinkable happened—Azhira turned her hand not against the Harbinger, but toward Veyric.
Her voice rang clear:
"The Admiral will fall. The prophecy has spoken."
A storm of fractal light ripped through Dominion ranks, shattering their perfect formations. For the first time, Veyric staggered, caught between Kaelen's defiance and Azhira's betrayal.
The alliance between the factions—fragile as glass—shattered completely. Dominion against Seers. Seers against Harbinger. Harbinger against all.
And through it all, Lyra shone like a beacon, the Seed pulsing so violently that cracks of pure infinity splintered the sky.
The Echo-Lord's voice rolled like thunder:
"Yes… break yourselves apart. Each wound makes the Seed bleed. And when it is weak enough—I will take it."
Kaelen dragged himself up, bleeding, every muscle screaming. He looked at Lyra, at the factions killing each other, at the monster lurking in shadow, and spat blood into the dirt.
"Then we'll tear the stars down before we give you what you want."