Camelia barely held onto consciousness. The crypt trembled around her, the portal expanding further, warping the air as the energy of the shards surged outward.
The seal she had fought so hard to maintain was crumbling, slipping from her grasp. The One Beyond's presence pressed against her mind, vast and endless, its voice threading through the very fabric of the Spire.
Choose.
Seraphiel's words rang in her ears. His golden eyes bore into her, waiting—expecting.
But Camelia didn't trust him.
Didn't trust this so-called cycle.
Didn't trust the idea that all of their sacrifices were merely fragments of something greater.
Atherion's grip tightened around her wrist, pulling her back from the dizzying waves of energy rippling through the crypt. "You're not falling," he muttered, his voice barely audible over the clash of battle around them.
She steadied herself, nodding weakly. She wouldn't fall. Not now. Not yet.
