Evangeline stood trembling, the Prism Gear burning in her hands like a second heart.
"I… I don't know what to choose," she whispered, tears streaking her face. "If I give it to him, he wins. If I destroy it, Brasswick burns with him. Every choice is ruin."
Elric's voice was calm, though his body ached from the strain. "There is no right answer, Evie. Only yours."
The Phantom loomed above them, his mask shifting, his voices shrieking in madness. "There is no choice! Only outcome! Only solution! Only me!"
Evangeline lifted the Gear. For a heartbeat, time seemed to still.
Then she flung it—not to the Phantom, not to Elric, but into the cracking obsidian gear at the Sanctum's center.
The Prism shattered on impact. Light and shadow exploded outward, filling the chamber with brilliance. Equations unraveled into dust. Reflections screamed as they shattered, each splinter of the Phantom torn from the whole.
And the Machine convulsed.