The chapel was nothing but ruins. Its walls leaned inward, black with soot. Its roof had collapsed long ago, leaving the stars to watch from above. The air smelled of smoke and rot, and the ground was littered with broken stone and half-burned icons.This was where Mason’s band rested after their last battle. But it did not feel like rest. Men sharpened blades with shaking hands. Women stared into the ashes of small campfires, their eyes empty. Children curled against one another, too tired to cry but unable to sleep. The silence pressed heavy on all of them.Norra sat by Mason’s side. He leaned against a broken column, his skin pale, his breath shallow. His silver eyes glowed faintly in the dark, a light that looked less like strength and more like a wound.She watched him in silence, her heart heavy. Every time he unleashed the fire, she thought it would be the last. She thought he would not rise again. Yet he always did, slower, weaker, but still burning.Her small hands clenche

The hills grew blacker the closer they came. At first, the glow on the horizon had been faint, like a storm hidden behind mountains. Now it pulsed openly, black and red, lighting the night sky with every beat. The land beneath their feet trembled faintly, as if the earth itself carried a heartbeat not its own.Mason marched at the front, his silver eyes locked on the glow. His body was weaker than before, his skin scarred by burns, his breath heavier with every mile, but his stride never faltered. Behind him, the band followed, silent, weary, but bound together by the fire of resolve. No one spoke of turning back anymore. There was nowhere to turn.The path east was lined with ruin. Trees lay twisted, their branches reaching like skeletal hands. Villages were nothing but charred skeletons of wood and stone.In one ruin, they found a survivor, an old woman crouched in the ashes of her home. Her eyes were wild, her voice a whisper. “Don’t go closer,” she hissed, clutching Mason’s slee

The shadow’s hand came down. Mason lay on the ground, his body broken, the fire in him no more than a flicker. He could barely move. His skin was torn and blistered, his chest heaved in ragged gasps. His silver eyes dimmed as the black-red glow of Vazquez’s massive hand loomed closer.The ground shook as the half-formed god’s laughter rolled through the valley. “You burn so brightly, little flame,” Vazquez said, his voice deep as thunder. “But every fire dies. And yours dies here.”The hand descended. Norra screamed. Her dagger flashed as she hurled herself forward, slashing at the nearest shadows. She was small, her arm weak compared to the beasts that lunged at her, but her rage gave her strength. She struck again and again, cutting through black tendrils that sought Mason’s body. “Stay away from him!” she shrieked, voice breaking.John was beside her, his blade whirling, his silver eyes blazing. He cut through a twisted soldier, then slammed his sword through the chest of a prie

The valley shook as Vazquez’s laughter rolled through the air. The half-formed god towered above them, his massive body cracked and bleeding shadow, but his black-red eyes burned stronger than ever. The wound in his chest leaked smoke, yet it did not weaken him.it only seemed to feed his rage.Above, the rift yawned wider, spilling rivers of black-red fire into the sky. The air grew heavier, the ground cracked underfoot, and the chants of the remaining priests rose again in dreadful harmony.Mason lay limp in Norra’s arms, his body ruined. His breath came shallow, his skin blistered and torn, his silver eyes half-shut. For a moment, it seemed he had given all he had, that the fire was finally gone.Norra shook him, her tears falling onto his face. “Please,” she whispered, “don’t do this. Don’t leave me. Stay down, just stay alive.”But Mason’s lips moved. A whisper escaped, faint but firm. “If I stay down… everyone dies.”Norra’s heart broke with every word. She pressed her forehead

The world was quiet. The rift was gone. The sky was black again, stars faint above the smoke. No more firestorm, no more screaming shadow. Only silence and the sound of the wind moving across the ruined altar.The ground was broken, cracked wide as if a giant had torn it apart with his hands. Stone lay scattered in heaps, glowing faintly with the memory of fire. Ash drifted through the air like snow, soft and gray, settling on armor, skin, and weapons. Thousands of men and women stood frozen in place. Soldiers who had marched with fear, who had fought with terror, now stared into the void that was no longer there. The rift had closed. Vazquez was gone. Mason was gone.Norra stumbled forward across the broken ground. Her boots crunched on stone and ash. Her hands were raw, scraped from clawing at the ruins as if she could dig Mason out of them.“MASON!” Her voice cracked against the silence. She screamed his name again, louder, her throat tearing. Her hair was tangled with soot, he