The battlefield had become a labyrinth of ruin—broken ships, shattered constructs, and the blood of countless soldiers staining the fractured ground. Yet none of it compared to what came next.
Lyra clutched her chest as the Infinity Seed pulsed erratically. Its rhythm was no longer hers—it was wild, violent, and alien. The air around her shimmered like glass about to shatter.
Kaelen saw it, fear rising sharper than any blade. "Lyra! Hold on to yourself!"
But the Seed's voice thundered in her mind, louder than his:
Why resist? Let me speak. Let me burn them all.
Her eyes glowed like twin suns. Power erupted from her in a shockwave that threw back Veyric, Azhira, the Harbinger—everyone. Entire legions were hurled aside like toys. The ground cracked open, swallowing beasts and war machines into molten rivers below.
For a moment, silence fell. Soldiers on every side stared, terrified. Even the Harbinger lowered his axe, muttering, "What… is she?"
The Echo-Lord laughed, his voice carrying like thunder through the void.
"She is the key. And now the lock is breaking."
Lyra's body lifted from the ground, arcs of golden and black fire spiraling around her. Fragments of other worlds flickered in the storm—deserts, oceans, alien skies—all bleeding into reality. The Seed was tearing at the seams of the universe, no longer bound by time or place.
Azhira's disciples fell to their knees, weeping. "The prophecy… it was not hers to control. She is the prophecy."
Veyric steadied himself, rallying his Dominion troops. "If she cannot control it, then she must be contained—or destroyed."
Kaelen placed himself in front of Lyra, his phaseblade burning bright. His voice broke with defiance:
"No one touches her. No one."
The Harbinger sneered, stepping forward through the gale of power. "Then you'll die with her, boy."
The factions, though bloodied, surged again—drawn not by allegiance, but by the intoxicating sight of the Seed unchained.
And in that moment, Lyra's voice was not her own. It was layered with countless echoes, each one from a different future.
"Choose… now. Who will stand with me… and who will burn?"
The ground cracked again, and the storm of infinity split the battlefield into three glowing paths, each leading to ruin, salvation—or something far worse.