The wind over the Echo Wastes no longer screamed—it whispered. It spoke in voices only Riley could hear now: Brael's laugh carried on the ash, Daphne's heartbeat echoing through their bond, and the far-off cry of something ancient stirring just beyond perception.
She didn't sleep anymore.
The fire inside her had become something else since Brael's death. Not rage. Not grief. Something stranger. Hungrier. It didn't want destruction. It wanted purpose. Direction. Closure.
They had less than three days until Echo Gate would fully open.
Riley stood on a ridge overlooking the last valley before the Gate's perimeter. The horizon fractured like stained glass, bands of violet and ember fire twisting through the atmosphere. The world had started to come undone here, peeled open by time and memory. Velrax's influence pulsed beneath it like a second heartbeat.
Behind her, the Emberwake Coalition had gathered. Nearly seventy bonded pairs, most bloodied from previous incursions, many soul-linked long before the Convergence. They looked to Riley now. Not as a symbol, but as a vector. The fire that had survived.
And she had to lead them into hell.
Tactical meetings were quieter without Brael. He had been the kind of presence that filled a room without effort—a sharp blade of insight, brutal honesty, and wit that never quite dulled. Now the space he once occupied felt colder. Daphne sat across from Riley, eyes shadowed with exhaustion, lips pressed in a firm line.
"We run three decoy operations before Echo Gate opens," Daphne said. Her voice was hoarse from hours of calculations. "Each one coordinated to overload the Skuldrith's attention vectors. It won't blind them for long, but it will give us an entry window."
Riley nodded slowly. "And the rest?"
"We lead the core team straight into the gate. No backdoor. No fallback. Once we pass through, the Gate seals behind us."
"One-way ticket."
"One chance," Daphne corrected.
They both paused. Neither needed to say it aloud, but the weight of what they were preparing to do pressed down like gravity in the room.
The soulbond pulsed softly between them.
Riley met Daphne's eyes. "You should know something."
Daphne tilted her head. "What?"
"When Brael died... I didn't just see it. I felt it. Through the fire. Like the moment seared itself into me. It keeps replaying in pieces—flashes. His last thoughts. His fear. And then... peace."
Daphne swallowed hard. Her voice broke. "He believed in you. Not because of what you are. But because of what you choose to be."
Riley looked down at her hands. Fire shimmered beneath the skin.
The armory buzzed with low murmurs as final checks were made. Daphne worked in silence, adjusting pulse cores and magnetic anchors with surgeon-like precision. Riley stood still as plates were aligned across her back and chest—lighter than standard armor, designed for agility, but reinforced to channel and regulate flame discharges.
It didn't feel like putting on protection. It felt like shedding the last of who she used to be.
The other bonded pairs assembled around the Emberwake Map. The terrain around Echo Gate shimmered in distortion—spikes of temporal activity, heat signatures of clustered Skuldrith swarms, null-zones of memory collapse.
"They're expecting brute force," said one of the captains.
"Good," Riley said. "Give them exactly what they fear."
Daphne added, "This isn't about overwhelming them. It's about overriding the cycle. We don't just burn the hive. We burn the source—Velrax's tether. That's our true objective."
Silence.
Then nods.
And for the first time since Brael fell, Riley felt the spark of unity ignite.
That night, Riley wandered beyond the camp. Her footsteps led her to a broken ridge overlooking the path toward Echo Gate. The sky above was fractured, stitched with aurora scars and starlight trying to push through.
She sat on a stone, staring out, fingers clasped around Brael's old locator charm—burnt beyond use, but still warm with memory.
"You were right," she whispered.
The wind stirred. A flicker of flame danced at the corner of her vision—and for a moment, she felt him.
Not gone.
Just waiting.
Daphne found her an hour later. She didn't say anything at first. Just sat beside her, shoulder to shoulder.
"Do you remember the first time we linked?" Riley asked.
Daphne nodded. "I remember thinking I would break you. That I wasn't strong enough to protect you."
Riley turned, smiling faintly. "And I remember thinking I didn't care. As long as I wasn't alone."
They watched the sky fracture.
"We walk into the gate tomorrow," Riley said. "Together."
"Always."
The fire between them whispered promises of endings. And beginnings.
And beyond the ridge, Echo Gate began to hum.
A sound like a key being turned.
Like the world taking its final breath.