“Where is Rhex?” she grits out between her teeth. The words are barely audible, but there is no mistaking their malice.
Rhex, God of Deceit and Envy.
The one who hurt her. The one who set all of this in motion.
“I left him in the echo-plane,” Seren announces, her voice cutting cleanly through the space between them. She does not balk. Does not lower her chin. Just allows the breaths to saw in and out of her like every one of them costs her a piece of herself. “He should not have touched you,” she admits, tears now welling in her eyes that have nothing to do with Nyrielle. “You deserved better. But so do we.”
A cry rips from Nyrielle’s throat that sounds like a wound reopening. It is not the sound of grief or sadness or loss. It is guttural. The sound of a plan unfinished. An opportunity missed. Vengeance erased. Completion disallowed.
Then she lifts her hands higher, darkness descending over her features.
And she detonates.
Power erupts outward in violent waves, stolen magic colliding with everything in its wake.
But the gods move as one, their abilities weaving together in ways Elyssara cannot fully track, each strike dismantling a piece of what Nyrielle has built.
Lara rises above them on Vren’s back, directing fire with ruthless precision toward Nyrielle, drawing her attention.
Tarrakai uses the opening. He spins toward Kael, and stalks. Their powers crash in a violent storm.
Marin cuts through what remains of her own forces without hesitation, her blade carving a path that leaves no doubt as to where she stands.
Jax moves through it all like a storm given form, channeling magic that is not her own and making it lethal in ways that should not be possible.
The dragons tear through the sky, their fire no longer scattered, but focused, guided by witches who move with them as though they were born to it, lashing out their own magic in time with the fall of wings.
And Elyssara. She steps forward.
This time, when she gathers her power, it does not feel insufficient. It does not feel like something she is forcing into shape. It feels…aligned. As though everything the Stars demanded has been placed on the board to their exact liking.
Light surges outward, not wild or uncontrolled or reactive, but blinding. Unerring in its precision. Cutting through the space between her and Nyrielle as everything else holds the line.
The alliance, finally, moving like a symphony in perfect harmony. And her, like an instrument finding every note. This is what it was always meant to be. Not one power ruling all, but many, held in balance.
Teddy should have been here to see this. To turn impossible pieces into strategy and call it obvious afterward.
Vren banks to regain power, and Nyrielle turns toward Elyssara. There is no amusement in her expression. Only rage. Like a woman whose plan is falling apart. Like a certainty revealed as an illusion.
Perception is a fragile thing.
Maireth’s words sing through her mind.
And they meet in the center of illusion.
Power clashes. Light against everything Nyrielle has stolen, everything she has twisted into something that was never meantto be wielded by one person alone. The force of it tears the ground apart beneath their feet.
Elyssara does not falter. Not this time. She steps through it. Through the resistance. Through the weight of it.
The gods move in time with her, their magic lashing out, restraining Nyrielle in divine bonds. She cries out, wrenching at the dark chains wrapping around her wrists by Ravira and Halun. The roots and vines that break through the fractured earth, rising to ensnare Nyrielle in their grasp. Magic of Kiann, God of Nature and Rhythms.
One by one, the gods chain the Goddess of Light and Wonder, hold her against the stolen power that flares, surges, but snuffs under the force of their magic.
Elyssara steps forward, and everything goes quiet. The battle stills around her, watching as the future is decided in a single moment.
Elyssara sees it then—not the goddess, not the monster, but the wound beneath both. The agony. The violation. The suffering that twisted into vengeance so consuming it devoured everything around it.
But pain does not excuse cruelty.
