Silence followed the battle, but it wasn't peace.
It was the kind of stillness that comes after an avalanche—the world catching its breath, unsure what would rise from the rubble.
The Shardspire had cracked completely, its top missing, the base humming with weakened energy. The echo seed left behind by the Twin-Faced Sovereign had vanished, but its scars remained across the battlefield.
Kai stood before the broken stone, orb pulsing low but steady in his palm.
Ayaka limped to his side, a faint burn across her cheek. "He escaped."
Kai nodded. "But not unchanged."
Ren appeared behind them, carrying the unconscious form of one of the Sovereign's generals—mask shattered, face barely recognizable.
"He left the weak behind," Ren said. "Even his own."
"No," Kai said softly. "He left what couldn't feed his hunger anymore."
The Heaven-Binder approached, his aura calm now. The storm that had followed him dispersed, the sky quiet again.
"You made a choice," he said to Kai. "To burn your own spirit to protect others."
Kai exhaled. "And I'll do it again, if I must."
The Heaven-Binder placed a hand on Kai's shoulder. "Then you are no longer a bearer. You are a cultivator… of truth."
He stepped back, gaze distant. "The other Realms will feel this. They will come. Not all with swords."
Ayaka looked up. "Diplomats?"
Ren grunted. "Assassins."
Kai's voice was calm.
"Let them come. I'm not looking for war. But if they bring it—"
He turned back toward the cracked spire, placing the orb inside a hollow at its heart.
"—then let it grow from my roots, not their rot."
The orb pulsed once—slow, deep, warm.
From the broken stones, tiny golden sprouts began to rise.