The walls of the Iron Vale trembled.
Not from quake.
Not from magic.
But from Caelina's silence.
Across from her, Miren tilted her head, confused.
"You should be afraid," she said, stepping down the obsidian dais.
"The Pureborn are rebirth. You are a relic. An echo of a dying line."
Caelina's gaze never wavered.
"I'm not an echo."
Her silver veins flared.
The ground beneath her boots cracked.
"I'm the drumbeat before the warcry."
Behind her, Elara shifted into full hybrid form — massive, furred, fangs bared, golden-eyed. Her shadow stretched like a blade across the polished floor.
"You want us to run?" she said, voice like gravel.
"Sorry. That's not how this story ends."
Miren laughed. "No, you're right. It ends in blood."
She raised her hand — and the Pureborn charged.
Chaos ignited.
Elara leapt, crashing into the front line with bone-splintering force. She moved like a hurricane: knees breaking, claws slashing, jaws locking onto limbs.
But there were too many.
And they were trained for her.
Caelina moved differently.
She didn't shift.
She breathed.
And the sea answered.
From the floor cracks, saltwater hissed upward. It curled around her arms like serpents, hardening into blades of shimmering brine-glass.
The chamber filled with mist.
She twisted — slicing through two Pureborn mid-leap.
One blade shattered on impact, turning into mist that scorched the air.
Another formed instantly.
Miren's voice rose over the carnage.
"You're using heresy. The sea is not yours to wield."
Caelina turned her gaze on her — and smiled.
"It was never yours to forbid."
Suddenly—
The chamber exploded in light.
Zela burst through the upper oculus window, riding a silver-bonded hawk, a fire-bomb in each hand.
"Did someone call for a rescue?" she shouted.
Elara grinned even while bleeding.
"Late as usual."
Zela dropped the charges.
The shockwaves sent Pureborn crashing into walls.
Dust. Screams. Smoke.
"Exit plan?" Caelina asked, spinning a salt-dagger from her palm.
Zela pointed at the ceiling. "Straight through the old soul chimney. Elara, on my six. Caelina, drop it. You know what to do."
Caelina reached into her belt. Pulled out the pendant forged from Myra's broken spear.
Held it high.
It began to pulse, then melt, then sing.
Elara turned sharply.
"You're going to break the Veil?"
Caelina nodded. "Only way to seal this place forever. Once we leave — this valley forgets itself."
Zela grabbed Elara's arm. "GO!"
They ran.
Up winding shafts and melting staircases. Wolves screamed behind them.
The walls began to cry — literally.
Salt tears poured from the carved faces.
Miren screamed from below:
"YOU THINK YOU'VE WON? I AM HER DAUGHTER. I CANNOT BE ERASED."
Caelina stopped.
Turned.
Spoke just loud enough.
"You were never her daughter.
You were just a vessel.
And you've leaked."
She slammed the pendant into the central pillar.
The entire chamber convulsed.
Above, the exit neared.
Zela soared up first, her hawk screeching through ash.
Elara climbed next — limping but strong.
Caelina was last.
She paused.
Took one last look at the collapsing shrine below.
At Miren, half-shifted, clutching her head.
"I'll see you again," Miren whispered, not in threat… but in promise.
"We are not done."
Caelina's heart squeezed.
She knew.
This wasn't over.
But today was their chapter.
She leapt.
The Iron Vale imploded in silence.
No sound.
Just light.
A silver bloom in the heart of a dead mountain.
And then…
Nothing.