The Hall no longer felt like a ruin.
It felt like a confession.
The white light from the sealed door dimmed until it became a steady glow, not a barrier now but a presence. The shadows outside pressed against the shattered windows, their shapes smearing across the glass like ink in water. The bound dead had stopped advancing. They waited.
Listening.
Aria stood closest to the door, the Shard warm in her palm, pulsing in a slow and measured rhythm. Not urgent. Not afraid. Almost patient.
Behind her, Kael shifted his stance, sword still raised but lowered just enough to show the hesitation he could not hide. Finn wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, humor gone from his eyes. Lyric had gone very still, her scholar mind racing ahead, already sensing the truth circling them. Quinn watched the ceiling, the walls, the air itself, as though expecting the world to fracture at any moment.
Saraphine stood alone at the center of the Hall.
She had pushed her hood back now. Her face was pale and sharp, untouched by time in a way that felt unnatural. Her eyes reflected the red light of the realm beyond the windows, but beneath it was something older. Not madness. Not cruelty.
Conviction.
"You feel it now," Saraphine said softly. "Do you not?"
Aria lifted her chin. "I feel the lie."
A flicker of something crossed
Saraphine's face. Approval, perhaps. Or regret.
"So the Shard has finally stopped whispering half truths," she replied. "Good. It always did prefer you to the others."
Lyric took a step forward. "You built this Hall. Or you ended it. Which is it?"
Saraphine glanced at her, almost amused. "Neither. I simply removed the illusion. This place was dying long before I arrived."
Kael's voice was tight. "You led the dead here. You bound them."
"Yes," Saraphine said without denial. "Because the dead remember what the living are taught to forget."
Her gaze returned to Aria. "Tell me what you saw when you touched the banner."
Aria's fingers curled around the Shard. "I saw Seekers laughing. I saw light. And then I saw them choosing who deserved to live with magic and who did not."
Silence settled heavy in the Hall.
Finn swallowed. "That is not possible."
"It is," Aria said quietly. "The First Seeker did not save the world. They controlled it. Balance was not harmony. It was fear dressed as order."
Saraphine exhaled, slow and steady. "Exactly."
Lyric shook her head, disbelief and fury warring in her eyes. "Then the Path is a cage."
"Yes," Saraphine said. "A beautiful one. Polished. Ritualized. Blessed. But a cage all the same."
Quinn's voice was low. "And the Eye?"
Saraphine's mouth curved slightly. "The Eye worships freedom without consequence. It tears chains without caring who bleeds."
Aria looked at her fully now. "And you?"
"I believe," Saraphine said, stepping closer, "that no one should be chosen. Not by Shards. Not by Paths. Not by ancient mistakes we are too afraid to undo."
The Shard flared once, reacting to her words, and Aria felt it clearly then. The truth. Not spoken. Not hidden.
The Path was never meant to be permanent.
It had always needed an end.
"You want to destroy it," Aria said.
Saraphine nodded. "Yes. I want to break the world open so it can breathe again."
"And how many die in the breaking?" Kael demanded.
Saraphine did not look at him. "Enough."
Aria stepped forward, the light from the sealed door painting her in pale gold.
"That is where we differ."
Saraphine's eyes sharpened. "You understand me. Do not pretend otherwise."
"I do," Aria said. "That is why I cannot stand with you."
The shadows in the Hall stirred.
Saraphine's voice dropped. "Then you choose the lie."
"No," Aria said, steady and calm. "I choose choice."
Lyric inhaled sharply. "Aria."
Saraphine tilted her head. "Explain."
Aria looked down at the Shard, at the way it rested in her hand like something alive and waiting. "You want to free the world by tearing it apart. By forcing an ending. You want to decide for everyone."
"And you do not?" Saraphine asked.
Aria met her gaze. "I will not decide who gets to live with magic. I will not decide who deserves power. I will not replace one cage with another."
Saraphine took a step back, something like realization flickering through her expression. "You are going to leave."
The words landed like a crack of thunder.
Kael turned sharply. "What?"
Finn stared at her. "Aria, what does that mean?"
Lyric's voice was barely a whisper. "Aria. No."
Saraphine's eyes widened, just a fraction. "You cannot."
"I can," Aria said softly. "Because the Path needs an anchor. And I am the last one."
The Shard pulsed hard now, as though in agreement.
Saraphine's composure fractured. "You think absence will free them? You think the world will heal without guidance?"
"I think," Aria replied, "that the world deserves the chance to fail on its own terms."
Saraphine's voice rose for the first time. "You want to abandon them."
"I want to trust them."
The shadows recoiled, hissing against the walls.
Saraphine's hands clenched. "If you do this, magic will weaken. It will fracture. People will suffer."
"Yes," Aria said. "They already do. Just not equally."
Lyric stepped forward, tears streaking her face. "You do not have to do this alone."
Aria turned to her, smiling sadly. "That is the point."
Finn shook his head, a broken laugh escaping him. "You are unbelievable."
Kael reached for her arm. "Aria, please."
She gently removed his hand. "You were never meant to follow me this far."
The sealed door flared brighter, responding not to force but to acceptance.
Saraphine stared at her, horror and awe warring in her eyes. "You will become a ghost. A rumor. They will tear your name apart."
Aria nodded. "Good."
Saraphine whispered, "You want to end the Path by leaving it."
"Yes," Aria said. "You want to break the world to free it. I will free it by leaving."
The Hall trembled.
Outside, the bound dead fell to their knees, chains unraveling, faces softening as something ancient released its grip.
Saraphine staggered back. "I did not want this."
Aria looked at her gently. "Neither did I."
The door opened.
Light spilled out, not blinding but vast. Endless. Quiet.
Aria stepped toward it.
Behind her, footsteps echoed through the Hall, hurried and desperate.
"Aria."
She froze for half a breath.
Dorian stood in the doorway of the Hall, chest rising and falling, eyes wide with understanding that had come far too late.
Their gazes locked.
He did not beg.
He simply shook his head, once.
Aria smiled at him, small and devastating. Then she turned away.
The door closed.
And the Path began to end.