Three months later.
Ethan awoke.
Not in the coliseum.
Not in the academy.
But in a quiet garden, beneath a tree with silver leaves that sang when the wind blew.
He sat up.
His body felt… wrong.
Not weak.
Not broken.
Changed.
His skin glowed faintly — the same seven colors that had woven the seal.
His eyes reflected stars.
He tried to speak. His voice… echoed like a thousand voices at once.
"Ethan."
He turned.
Luna stood there, holding a cup of tea.
She looked older.
Tired.
But whole.
"You came back," she said.
"I didn't go," he replied.
She blinked.
"I don't understand."
He looked down.
There was no scar. No wound. No sign he'd been sacrificed.
But his hands… they were different.
When he raised them, faint silver runes spiraled across his fingers — not magic.
Memory.
He reached out, touched the tree.
The leaves chimed.
He smiled.
"I didn't disappear, Luna."
He smiled again — gentle, quiet, infinite.
"I became part of the seal."
He looked at her.
"I'm the anchor now."