"Thank you, sister. You did exactly what I needed."
Damien's voice echoed off the shattered stone, smooth as ever, but laced with something colder—triumph.
Alina's sword was in her hand before she realized it. "What are you talking about?"
Damien stepped further into the sanctum, eyes fixed on the scorched glyphs beneath their feet. "The prophecy was a lock, Alina. Not just a warning. It kept something buried—something I needed free."
Selene rose to her feet, visibly drained. "You used us."
"I did," Damien said with no shame. "You broke the seal. Released the shadow. Now the war can begin properly."
"You don't know what you've unleashed," Selene snapped.
"Oh, I know," Damien replied. "I've seen it. Tasted it. The Flamebound think they control fire. But this… this is older than fire."
Alina's grip tightened. "You were my brother."
"I still am," Damien said, eyes locking onto hers. "But blood doesn't mean loyalty. You chose a witch over your Order. Now you'll burn with her."
He raised his hand. Red magic flared in his palm—corrupted, jagged.
Selene grabbed Alina's arm. "We can't take him head-on. He's drawing from the rift."
"We're not running again," Alina said.
"Then we aim higher," Selene whispered. "At his source."
They split—Selene flanking left, Alina rushing straight ahead. Damien struck first. The red bolt seared toward Alina, but she deflected it with the blade's flat edge, the heat singing her skin.
Selene cast a shockwave from behind. Damien spun, blocking it with a twisted glyph that bled black flame.
"You're predictable, witch," he growled.
"Good," Selene said, "because this isn't."
She plunged her hand into the earth.
The glyphs from the sanctum flared, gold light bursting upward and wrapping around Damien like a cage. He screamed—not in pain, but fury.
Alina charged, blade raised.
Damien met her halfway, magic clashing with steel.
They fought like mirrors—trained by the same hands, scarred by the same fire. But Alina wasn't who she used to be.
And Damien had no soul left.
Alina feinted, spun, and drove her blade into his side. Not fatal—but enough.
He staggered, blood spilling across the floor. The rift above flickered.
"I'll come back," he hissed. "Even if this body dies. The rift is open."
"Then I'll close it," Alina said.
She stepped back—into Selene's waiting magic.
The witch raised her hands—and the glyphs answered.
The air cracked with light.
A single pulse. Blinding.
Then silence.
When it cleared, Damien was gone.
Not dead.
Just… vanished.
Alina dropped to her knees. "Where is he?"
Selene shook her head. "I didn't kill him. I scattered him. Banished his essence through the rift."
"Then he can still return."
"Yes," Selene said. "But not alone."
They looked up.
The rift remained open.
And something else was beginning to step through.