The reborn Regent struck first — a blinding beam of white fire that tore through the floor. Tray dove, rolling behind a broken console as Lyra's spear spun through the air, deflecting a second blast.
> "We can't overpower him!" she yelled.
> "Then we outthink him!" Tray countered.
They moved as one — Tray darting close to draw fire, Lyra leaping high, her spear trailing arcs of green lightning. She struck Kael's chest, but his new form barely flinched.
> "Your courage is irrelevant," he boomed. "Light consumes shadow!"
Tray's voice cut through the thunder. "Not if shadow learns to shine."
He slammed his sword into the floor. The generator's feedback loop ignited, channeling storm energy up through his blade. Sparks cascaded across his armor, pain searing through every nerve — but he held on.
> "Tray!" Lyra screamed. "You'll burn yourself alive!"
> "Then I'll burn bright!"
He launched forward, his sword glowing with pure stormlight. Lyra followed, their weapons meeting Kael's core at the same moment — her green against his violet, lightning exploding outward.
The impact shattered the chamber.
When the light finally dimmed, Kael's body disintegrated into shards of glass, falling like rain. The storm outside calmed for the first time in decades, revealing the stars.
Tray fell to one knee, smoke rising from his armor. Lyra knelt beside him, pulling off his helmet. His face was pale, lips cracked, eyes glowing faintly from energy overload.
> "You idiot," she whispered. "You could've died."
> "Would've been worth it," he rasped. "Seeing you yell my name like that."
She laughed softly, relief mixing with exhaustion. "You're impossible."
> "Yeah," he said, smiling faintly. "But you're stuck with me."
For a moment, the world was quiet. The only sound was their breathing, the storm finally at rest. Lyra reached out, her gloved hand brushing his cheek. Electricity crackled faintly where their skin met — a gentle, dangerous spark.
> "Don't do that again," she murmured.
> "Can't promise."
Her eyes softened, and before either could stop it, the air shifted — tension melting into something fragile and real. She leaned in just close enough for him to feel the warmth of her breath, then stood abruptly.
> "We need to secure the core," she said, voice steady again.
Tray smiled to himself. "Right. The core."
As they worked, the calm returned — but under it lingered something unspoken, electric.
Later, as they prepared to leave, Lyra looked out over the city. "You realize what this means," she said. "If Kael was right, the Rift didn't invade us. We built it."
Tray sheathed his sword, the glow fading. "Then we're not just fighting monsters — we're fighting our mistakes."
The clouds parted, revealing the path ahead — a trail of light leading toward the horizon.
Lyra turned to him, the wind catching her hair. "Next stop: The Kingdom of Ember."
He grinned. "Fire and storms? Sounds romantic."
She gave him a look. "Only you would say that."
> "What can I say," he shrugged, "I like a little lightning between us."
Her expression softened, almost a smile. "Then you'll love what's coming."
They stepped onto the transport, lightning flashing behind them — not as a warning this time, but as a promise.