It is not clear why we choose the fire pathway,

Where we end is not the way that we had planned.

***** *****

Matthew stood alone on the fractured steps of the palace, the once-glistening monument now a ruin on the forsaken planet. The weight of the monumental lie pressed heavily on his chest. Eko? No—Sera. Even in his thoughts, he forced himself to use her real name, the name now inseparable from betrayal. Hatred etched itself deep into his bones, coursing through him like venom, feeding on the chaos that had consumed him since the truth had unraveled.

But the betrayal that cut deepest wasn't her faked death. That, he could have tolerated—had endured. Hell, if she had told him the truth, he might have even forgiven her. No, it was the lies she had spun afterward, the false threads she had woven so seamlessly into the fabric of their bond. Every whispered promise, every look of tenderness, every moment of vulnerability—it hadn't been love. Not really.

It had been survival.

That was the hardest part to accept, the truth that gutted him more than anything else. She hadn't loved him. She'd needed him. Used him. Their bond, which he had believed was unshakable, had been nothing more than a means to an end for her. A tool she wielded with precision, not affection.

Their love hadn't been undone by loss, because love had never been a part of it.

It had been undone by truth—a truth that stripped away the facade and revealed the cold, calculated reality beneath. A reality that left him hollow, as though the very core of who he was had been carved out and discarded.

Everything he thought they had been was a lie.

Or worse, it had been real only to him.

That thought festered, the ache of betrayal transmuting into something sharper—something unstoppable. It coiled deep in his chest, fueling a fire that burned hotter with each step. Matthew moved forward, his strides slow but unrelenting, each one heavier than the last. Soldiers scattered in his wake, their instincts sounding an alarm they couldn't fully understand. The air grew thick with their fearful murmurs, but Matthew didn't so much as glance their way. His focus was singular, his intent unshakable.

Behind him, his sword dragged across the fractured stone, the sharp, deliberate screech slicing through the silence like a harbinger of death. The sound wasn't accidental—it was calculated. Each grinding scrape reverberated with purpose, a chilling declaration that echoed across the desolation.

It was a promise.

They needed to know he was coming.

And he wouldn't stop—not until the ground ran red with their blood, not until the balance they had shattered was restored. He would tear apart their world piece by piece, as mercilessly as they had torn apart his.

No matter the cost.

***** *****

The Beast unleashed his power, the crystal's magic erupting in a blinding flare that tore through the air, its chaotic energy spiraling wildly around them. Tendrils of light and shadow intertwined, crackling and writhing like living things. His voice thundered with unearthly resonance as the incantation poured from him, the guttural, alien words twisting into a language neither Eko nor Teshia could decipher. The oppressive sound pressed against them, each syllable like an ominous drumbeat, reverberating in the space between them and sinking into their very bones.

Eko screamed as an unseen blade pierced her heart, fiery agony ripping through her chest like molten lava. It was as if her ribs were being crushed in an iron vice, the pressure suffocating, unrelenting. Her dormant energy surged in response, spiraling chaotically, feeding into the escalating storm of magic. The Beast's chanting grew louder, harsher, each word grinding against her mind as if it sought to shatter her from within.

Barely able to stand, Eko stumbled forward, her hands groping blindly for something solid, something real. The crystal's raw, unyielding power pressed down on her like a tidal wave, distorting the very air around her. It vibrated with an unbearable intensity, each pulse seeming to unravel the strength in her body.

"What none would give, the heart must lose," the Beast intoned, the guttural chanting slipping briefly into English, each word like a knife twisting deeper.

"A sacrifice of the heart, it is told," he continued, his voice cold and unyielding, before slipping back into the alien chant. The oppressive magic rose higher, a crescendo of power threatening to tear the air apart.

Eko swayed, her vision swimming as the suffocating pressure hollowed her out from within. Her legs trembled beneath her, every step harder than the last. The energy seeping from the crystal clawed at her, stripping her of her strength, her breath, her very being. It was too much—too vast, too consuming.

The Beast's voice thundered through the air, each word heavy with the weight of destiny. His incantation wove together ancient prophecy and cold malice, a foretelling passed down by witches who had dared to peer beyond the veil of time. Their cryptic warnings had held the key to ending the war—a path forward, drenched in blood and shadow. The savior their enemy feared, the one destined to tip the scales, was imprisoned in a realm untouched by mortal hands. To free her was to risk everything, for this savior was both a weapon and a gamble—a final chance in a battle that threatened to devour them all.

The Beast's words lingered in the air, each syllable like a death knell, their meaning clear and grim. Freedom could be won, but only through loss—something irreplaceable, something sacred, something that might never be reclaimed.

"A sacrifice of the heart, young princess!" The Beast's mocking voice broke through the tension, followed by a maniacal laugh that echoed like shattering glass. His eyes burned with cruel delight, savoring the torment written across Eko's face.

Eko gasped, choking on the air that refused to fill her lungs. Her chest heaved, as though an iron vice gripped her ribs and squeezed with merciless precision. Pain radiated through her body, sharp and unrelenting, dragging her closer to the brink of collapse. Her vision blurred, her surroundings melting into shifting shapes as her trembling arms buckled beneath her. Desperation surged in her chest, driving her to fight, to rise—but her strength faltered. The crushing force bore her down, grinding her into the dirt.

A shadow loomed over her. Isis crouched nearby, her presence radiating twisted satisfaction. The Sorceress's gaze flicked over Eko's trembling, blood-streaked form, her pale lips curling into a perverse grin.

Eko rolled onto her back, her heart pounding with terror as Isis's malevolent stare locked onto her, unyielding and sharp as a blade. The Sorceress leaned closer, the gleam of triumph in her eyes like a predator savoring the kill. Eko's breath hitched as the grin widened, splitting Isis's face with an almost inhuman glee.

"What none would give, the heart must lose," Isis mused, her tone dripping with mockery. Her words slithered into Eko's ears like venom, deliberate and biting, each syllable a twist of the knife. "It took us a long time to understand, Your Highness. But now we see." Her grin darkened, her expression alive with cruel amusement.

"What none would give is a life." Her words fell like a stone, heavy and final. "The heart must lose. Tell me, little queen," Isis leaned closer, her face mere inches from Eko's, her breath acrid, her voice low and taunting. "What do you think that means for you?"

The question lingered for only a heartbeat before the next moment unfolded in a vivid, horrifying explosion of pain. Eko's world turned crimson as Isis drove a black steel blade deep into her chest. Agony erupted within her, sharp and unrelenting, tearing a raw, guttural scream from her throat.

Her breaths turned to shallow gasps, each one a struggle as the blade twisted mercilessly, grinding through flesh and splintering bone. The sickening crack of her ribcage echoed in her ears, a sound that made her stomach lurch. Pain surged through her body like a tidal wave, overwhelming and all-consuming.

Her sky-blue eyes widened in shock, panic radiating from her as the magic imbued in the blade coursed through her veins. The force sent her body into violent convulsions. Her trembling hands flew to her chest instinctively, clutching at the wound, her fingers slick with the warm, sticky flow of blood pouring from her. It pooled around her, dark and vivid, seeping into the dirt below.

The Beast's incantation thundered above it all, his guttural words relentless, filling the air with an oppressive, suffocating weight. Eko's blood seeped into the ground, feeding the spiraling chaos that raged around her. Her magic, wild and unbound, erupted in a violent cascade of golden light, pulsing outward from her body in uncontrollable waves. The force rippled through the planet, shaking the very foundation beneath them.

Simmering lights shimmered in the air around her, delicate and ephemeral, weaving and dancing as though they had a life of their own. Eko's unfocused gaze fixed on the haunting whiteness that played before her eyes, a stark and surreal contrast to the fiery agony gripping her chest. Each breath came shallow and uneven, her trembling fingers clutching at the blade buried deep in her, her hands slick with the hot, sticky blood pouring from the wound. The bitter truth settled over her like a shroud—Isis's strike had been fatal.

"The realm's prison shall fall to flame, the savior condemned, their soul to blame," Isis murmured some of the cryptic words told to them, her voice dripping with cruel satisfaction. Her words slithered into Eko's ears like venom, each syllable laced with twisted glee. Leaning closer, the Sorceress's sharp grin widened as her eyes gleamed with malicious delight. "Do you know what that means, little queen?" Her tone turned mocking, savoring each word like a macabre melody. "When you die, our Huntress will be free. The realm to which she was bound will crumble, and we will finally release her. She is the only thing standing between oblivion and salvation. And we—" her voice dropped, a razor-sharp whisper, "—we need her free."

Above Eko's weakening form, the Beast's voice reverberated through the air, a chant deep and guttural, layered with raw, ancient power. The sound vibrated with menace, crackling with energy so primal it felt alive. The incantation twisted like lightning through the air, its cadence rhythmic yet discordant, haunting and heavy with purpose:

"Sanguis fluat ut fila temporis purgentur,
Fatis ligatum, sacrificio divino.
Cor ardet ut claustra occulta frangantur,
Salutator surgit, anima immunda."

The words carried a weight that pressed against Eko's fading consciousness, their meaning too vast, too alien for her failing mind to grasp. The golden light surrounding her surged violently, pulsating as her strength began to ebb, each wave of magic painting the battlefield in haunting, flickering brilliance. Around her, the lines of reality wavered, teetering on the edge of collapse as the prophecy unfolded.

Eko's chest heaved, her heart pounding in sync with the relentless rhythm of the ancient chant. The guttural cadence reverberated through her very being, each word cutting into her resolve like a jagged blade. Though the exact meaning of the Beast's incantation eluded her, its intent was undeniable—her blood, her death, was the key to unsealing the fate they had long awaited. Fear coiled around her heart, icy and merciless, tightening with cruel precision.

It wasn't the blade embedded in her chest that terrified her—it was the knowledge that removing it would hasten the inevitable.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, her mortality loomed before her, stark and unrelenting. The battles she had fought, the victories she had won, the power she had wielded—all of it felt like distant echoes from another life. Here, stripped of magic by the Beast's dark enchantments, she was no longer a queen commanding armies or wielding destiny. She was a fragile, broken girl, trembling beneath the suffocating weight of the ritual that bound her.

The air around her vibrated with unbearable pressure as the enchantments spiraled tighter, their darkness absolute.

Isis rose from the floor with slow, deliberate movements, her gaze fixed on the energy swirling violently around Eko's bleeding form. The vortex of light and destruction spun faster, igniting the air with raw, unbridled power. A cruel satisfaction gleamed in Isis's eyes, her expression twisted with triumph. Yet she said nothing, allowing the Beast's unyielding presence to dominate the space. His silence was more commanding than any word, his towering form motionless yet imbued with an overwhelming sense of purpose.

The barren landscape cracked and split beneath them as latent power erupted, shimmering streams of energy weaving through the broken ground like threads of an unraveling tapestry. The air pulsed with unbearable brilliance, spiraling inward toward the princess as though the storm itself was drawn to her. Her blood, her essence, fed the ritual, her life unraveling moment by moment, thread by thread.

The Beast betrayed no emotion, his monstrous visage as unyielding as stone. Yet his eyes burned with a long-awaited fulfillment, a sense of purpose realized after eons of patience. His gaze remained fixed on the vortex as it reached its crescendo, the very fabric of reality quivering under the pressure of the ritual.

The Huntress would soon be free.

***** *****

The battlefield roared with chaos, but Matthew moved through it like a force of nature. His once-soft features were now hardened, his jaw clenched as he pressed onward with unrelenting purpose. The blood dripping from his blade was a testament to his fury—a physical manifestation of his promise to protect her, no matter the cost. Each strike he delivered was precise and devastating, his enemies falling before him like leaves scattered in the wind.

Behind him, his warriors rallied with fervent cries, spurred on by their leader's relentless determination. They fought valiantly, their resolve strengthened by the sight of Matthew's unwavering focus. The forces of their enemy faltered, their lines breaking as panic set in. But Matthew saw none of it. His entire world was her—Eko—and the magic that threatened to consume her.

Each step brought him closer, his breaths heavy but measured as his fury propelled him forward. He could feel the compression of time distorting the air, bending the battlefield into a surreal tapestry of light and shadow. Yet he pressed on, undeterred, his vow echoing in his mind. "I will bring them to their fucking knees for you. I will end this."

Amid the chaos, Cid and Isis fought with calculated precision, their magic clashing with the warriors who dared challenge them. They had long discarded any thought of Teshia, their focus now wholly on the battle. Energy crackled around them as they wielded their powers with lethal intent, but even they felt the weight of Matthew's relentless advance, a force barreling toward them with the inevitability of a storm.

The Beast, however, remained still, his towering form casting a dark silhouette against the unnatural glow of the battlefield. He watched with unsettling calm, his sharp eyes drinking in every detail of the carnage. His expression betrayed no concern—only a twisted fascination with the chaos unraveling before him.

Vause appeared on higher ground, his sharp gaze cutting through the chaos as he skillfully maneuvered past youmas and frenzied creatures locked in battle. His attention zeroed in on Teshia, who knelt trembling, her screams swallowed by the cacophony around her. One of the youmas, a sinewy, grotesque beast with gnarled claws, kept her bowed, its grip on her neck forcing her into a contrived state of submission.

Vause's vision blurred with rage, his focus narrowing on the creature. Without hesitation, he surged forward, his staff crackling to life with raw energy. The youma turned its snarling maw toward him, its claws slashing through the air, but Vause was faster. He ducked under its swipe, pivoting on his heel to strike the creature's torso with a burst of kinetic force. The youma stumbled back, momentarily disoriented, but lunged again with guttural ferocity.

Vause twisted his staff, the runes etched along its length glowing fiercely, and struck downward. The ground beneath the youma erupted in a cascade of blinding light and splintered rock. The beast shrieked as the magic engulfed it, and before it could recover, Vause lunged, driving the head of his staff into its chest. Energy surged from his weapon, and the youma's form convulsed violently before exploding in a grotesque shower of blood and viscera.

Teshia scrambled forward, rolling away from the blast just as she turned in time to see the remnants of the creature splatter across her. Blood drenched her attire, the metallic tang heavy in the air. She stared in horror, trembling, before Vause rushed to her side. His hands found her shoulders, steadying her trembling form.

"Hold on," Vause commanded, his voice firm and unyielding, leaving no room for argument.

Teshia screamed as the magic surged around them, pulling them out of the chaos. The battlefield dissolved into a vortex of light and shadow, and when the world reformed, she found herself teetering on the edge of a cliff. The sudden stillness was jarring. She blinked, disoriented, her gaze locking onto Vause, who still held her shoulders tightly.

The horizon stretched before her, painted in the faint hues of pre-dawn. The sun lingered just below the edge of the world, casting a soft glow over the restless ocean that roared below. Waves slammed into the jagged rocks at the cliff's base, their ceaseless rhythm a stark contrast to the violent cacophony she had just left behind.

"Stay here!" Vause barked, his voice sharp and raw with terror. His hands gripped her head, his fear pouring out in palpable waves. Even though his words were hurried and fragmented, their urgency pierced her confusion. Teshia nodded faintly, too stunned to respond.

And then, in an instant, he was gone. The mage vanished back into the ether, returning to the chaos of the moon. He was driven by a singular purpose—to save as many lives as he could before it was too late.

Teshia stood frozen, the silence around her magnified by the adrenaline still coursing through her veins. But the reprieve was short-lived. Moments later, Vause reappeared, dragging Elders and Mages into the safety of the cliffside sanctuary. They materialized one by one, their bodies battered, their faces etched with exhaustion and pain. Blood smeared their clothes, their injuries a testament to the brutal onslaught they had barely escaped.

Determination replaced Teshia's paralysis. She shoved her mocha-colored hair out of her face, the tangled strands sticking to her sweat-dampened skin, and moved into action. Her heart raced with a fierce instinct, the fight-or-flight response igniting every fiber of her being.

Reaching for the nearest survivor, her trembling hands pressed against their wounds. Her mind raced as she assessed each injury, some so severe they seemed beyond saving. Yet she refused to falter. Letting her powers flow through her, she pushed herself to heal the worst of the damage, mending broken skin, sealing gaping wounds, and easing the pain etched into their faces.

Each time Vause vanished back to the moon, the moments stretched into an agonizing eternity. His powers, though formidable, began to falter, the strain of constant teleportation evident in the flicker of light that accompanied each departure. Time and again, he returned to the chaos, his resolve as unyielding as the warriors still locked in the throes of battle. He watched them from the shadows—men and women fighting with every ounce of strength they possessed, their blades and magic cutting through the relentless tide of enemies without hesitation. Each life they took seemed to weigh heavily on his shoulders, but there was no room for mercy in this war.

On his final trip to the moon, Vause's heart grew heavier still. The battlefield had transformed into a nightmarish tapestry of destruction, the screams of the dying mingling with the roar of spells and steel. Yet, amidst the carnage, he succeeded. The last of the survivors clung to him as they vanished into the light, their forms battered and broken but alive.

When they reappeared on the cliffside, Vause stumbled, his breathing labored. For a fleeting moment, he gazed toward the planet that was brimming with power with a pang of guilt and grief. He knew what was coming—knew that the orders to abandon the planet were absolute. To remain was to face a fate far worse than death. Whatever Matthew was about to unleash would consume all that remained.

Vause clenched his fists, his jaw tightening as the weight of reality pressed down on him. For the survivors huddled on the cliff, trembling and bloodied, this marked the end of one battle—but for those left behind on the moon, it was only the beginning of something far more catastrophic. He could feel it in the air, a tension that threatened to snap and unleash devastation on an unimaginable scale.

"Vause?" Her voice cut through his spiraling thoughts. He turned to see her staggering toward him, blood streaked across her battered frame, exhaustion carved into her features. Yet even in her weakened state, her mocha eyes blazed with unwavering determination.

"What's the plan?" she asked, her voice unsteady but firm. Her trembling hands clutched at the tattered remains of her sleeve, as if anchoring herself for the answer. "What do we do next?"

***** ****

Hunched over on the cold, blood-soaked ground, Eko's trembling fingers clutched the dagger lodged deep in her chest. Every shallow breath sent searing pain radiating through her body, her vision blurring with the effort to stay conscious. Yet, even through the agony, a sudden, powerful surge rippled through her—a sensation as familiar as her own heartbeat. Matthew was near.

She could feel his presence cutting through the chaos, a force so overwhelming it pushed back the suffocating darkness surrounding her. Despite the knife pinning her down and the blood pooling beneath her, a flicker of reassurance took root in her heart. No matter how insurmountable the odds, they always came for one another. Their bond was unyielding, a connection forged in pain, sacrifice, and love. A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched her lips, defying the agony wracking her body.

Through the haze of her dimming vision, she could make out the crumpling forms of the creatures surrounding her. The monsters fell one after another, crushed beneath the sheer, unrelenting force of Matthew's power as he carved a path straight to her. She couldn't see his face yet, but she knew—felt—his rage blazing like a storm, destroying everything in his way.

It would be over soon. He would bring them all to their knees just like he said he would.

But as she lay there, weakened and fighting to stay conscious, Eko remained unaware of the Beast's towering presence amidst the carnage. The shadowed figure stood motionless, his slick black eyes fixed on the warrior tearing through the battlefield. With calculated intensity, he shifted his focus to Eko, her crystal pulsating brighter and louder with every step Matthew took toward her.

The Beast's lips curled into a faint smirk. For all the chaos and bloodshed, the pieces of his game were falling perfectly into place. The dynamics of the battlefield shifted with each surge of the warrior's growing power, and the Beast watched intently, his dark eyes analyzing every move and countermove like a chess master savoring the unfolding of a perfect strategy.

The battle reached its breaking point as Cid, his gaze burning with fierce determination, charged toward the warrior. His weapon gleamed under the dim, chaotic light, poised for a lethal strike, each step thunderous against the fractured ground.

Matthew stood unfazed, his stance unshaken by the looming threat. The clash was instantaneous. Cid swung his blade in a wide arc, aiming for Matthew's chest, but Matthew deflected with brutal efficiency, the sound of steel colliding ringing across the battlefield. Sparks flew as their weapons clashed again and again in a blur of precision and force. Blood sprayed from shallow wounds as Cid's blade grazed Matthew's arm, but Matthew retaliated with a savage kick to Cid's ribs, sending him stumbling. Undeterred, Cid lunged again, his blade slicing the air with deadly precision, catching Matthew across his shoulder.

Matthew gritted his teeth, blood trickling down his arm, but his movements didn't falter. With an almost feral growl, he spun and drove his weapon into Cid's side, the blade sinking deep. Cid gasped, blood spurting from the wound, but still he fought on, countering with a slash that caught Matthew's side. Blood dripped from both men, staining the ground beneath them, but neither showed signs of retreat.

From the ground, Eko watched in horror as the battle raged. Her trembling hand stretched out toward Matthew, her scream piercing the air. "Matthew!"

Her cry shattered the tension, and in that instant, the magic erupted around her. Golden lights spiraled outward, wild and ferocious, consuming everything in their path. The energy roared like an unbridled tempest, tearing through the battlefield with a ferocity that caused even the Beast to take a step back, his smirk fading slightly. The crystal embedded in Eko's chest pulsed violently, its light growing brighter as her desperation fueled the chaotic surge.

The battlefield quaked beneath the weight of her unleashed power, golden lights spiraling in a ferocious tempest as Eko's screams tore through the chaos. Her cries carried a desperation that reverberated across the abandoned planets desolate landscape, igniting urgency in Matthew's movements.

Sensing the danger surrounding Eko, Matthew's eyes locked onto Cid with cold precision. Calculating his next move, he extended his hand toward the Sorcerer. From his palm erupted a concentrated surge of energy, a devastating blast that struck with unerring accuracy. The force hit Cid's legs like a thunderclap, shattering bones and ripping through muscle. The Sorcerer crumpled to the ground, his screams of agony piercing the air, his once-formidable form reduced to writhing torment.

Matthew's expression remained emotionless as he approached, each step deliberate, his presence commanding and unyielding. He rotated the blade in his hand with an almost casual grace, the weapon moving as though suspended by his will alone. When he reached Cid, he repositioned the blade with both hands gripping the hilt. Without hesitation, he drove it downward, piercing the Sorcerer's stomach in a single, decisive motion. The act was swift, efficient, and utterly merciless, a testament to Matthew's resolve and his detachment from the suffering he inflicted.

Cid's screams echoed as blood pooled beneath him, his body convulsing with pain. But Matthew spared no glance back. Leaving the sword embedded in the Sorcerer's abdomen, he turned and walked away, the limp body writhing in his shadow. With a flick of his hand, he summoned another blade to his grasp, the weapon materializing with a flash of light. The gesture was casual, yet it signaled the impending destruction he was about to unleash.

For Cid, a fate worse than death awaited. As his vision blurred with pain, he could do nothing but witness the carnage Matthew would unleash, knowing that everything he had fought for would crumble to dust. Matthew's strides grew more purposeful, his newly summoned weapon gleaming with lethal intent as he closed the distance to Eko, determined to kill anyone who dared to stand in his way.

As Matthew approached, the path to Eko was blocked by a relentless swarm of youmas and monsters. They lunged at him with feral ferocity, but he moved through them like a hurricane, his blade an extension of his fury. Each strike was precise and devastating, cutting down the creatures one after another. Their bodies fell lifeless to the ground, forming a grim path beneath his feet. Blood and shadow coated the battlefield, but nothing slowed him. Matthew was unstoppable, his focus still fixed solely on Eko.

When Matthew finally reached her, concern etched deeply into his bloodied face, his movements slowed as his gaze fell on Eko's fragile form. The sight of her, pale and trembling with a dagger lodged in her chest, sent a wave of anguish through him. His breath hitched as he knelt beside her, his blood mingling with hers where it pooled on the cold, lifeless ground.

Without hesitation, he slid an arm beneath her, pulling her gently into his embrace. Her body hung limp, her breaths shallow and uneven, yet when her glassy eyes met his, a faint flicker of life glimmered within them. Matthew's jaw tightened, his gaze darkened with determination, and his hand hovered over the dagger buried in her chest. The enormity of what he had to do weighed heavily on him, but he wouldn't falter—not for her.

"Sera," he murmured, his voice low, trembling with restrained emotion. His free hand pressed firmly against her back, steadying her against him. His eyes searched hers, silently pleading to the universe that he got there in time. "Stay with me. Just stay with me."

Taking a steadying breath, Matthew wrapped his fingers around the hilt of the dagger. Magic surged through him, vibrant and alive, weaving into her in luminous threads of golden light. The power was unlike anything he'd ever wielded, pulsating with an intensity that seemed to echo the very beat of their hearts. As the magic flowed into her chest, Eko gasped, her body jolting as if the force was awakening something deep within her.

In one swift, decisive motion, Matthew yanked the blade free. The golden energy followed, flooding the wound as if it were a living force. It pulsed and spiraled, sealing the jagged tear in her chest with a burst of radiant light. The pain dissipated instantly, replaced by an all-encompassing warmth that spread through her body like a rising tide. Eko gasped again, her strength returning in powerful waves as his magic coursed through her, repairing not only her broken flesh but her entire strength.

Her eyes widened in awe, staring up at him as she felt him—truly felt him—in every corner of her being. His energy surged within her, filling every inch of her, restoring her strength and knitting her wounds together with an intimacy that left her breathless. She reached up instinctively, her trembling hands clutching at his bloodstained shirt. The marks of battle marred his body—bruises blooming across his skin, and cuts that still bled freely—but his presence radiated calm, his focus entirely on her.

"How...?" she whispered, her voice barely audible as her lungs expanded with a deep, shuddering breath. The air rushed into her chest, soothing her weary body like a balm. Her gaze remained locked on his, searching for answers she couldn't quite articulate.

Matthew exhaled softly, his hand brushing the damp strands of hair away from her face as he held her close. "You're safe now," he murmured, his voice low but heavy with an unshakable promise.

Then his arms tightened around her, lifting her gently to her feet. Eko felt emotions flood her system, emotions she hadn't dared to feel in what felt like an eternity. His familiar scent—clean laundry and the faint sweetness of honey—wrapped around her, grounding her amidst the carnage surrounding them. Her gaze dropped to his hand as it rested over her chest, and for the first time, she noticed her unmarred skin. The wound was gone, replaced with smooth, dirtied flesh as if it had never existed.

But something felt different.

A strange sensation rippled through her, radiating from his touch. Her brows furrowed as the energy coursing through her body became impossible to ignore. It was unmistakable—a shift in his magic, an unfamiliar intensity that enveloped them both. The energy pulsed, alive and almost sentient, radiating with a power that wasn't entirely his own.

A chilling realization gripped her, the memory of a conversation they had shared surging to the forefront of her mind. The last crystal. They had spoken about it, the consequences of wielding two crystals. The power. They had speculated, guessed at the physical and metaphysical changes it might bring to their bodies, to their very souls. Now, standing here, feeling the unfamiliar energy intertwining with her own, Eko's chest tightened with apprehension.

"No..." she whispered, her voice trembling as her wide eyes darted up to meet his. "No, no, no, Matthew..."

Her words trailed off, her thoughts racing as she studied his face. His cold, steel-like stare had replaced the warmth she once knew. It was piercing, unyielding, and devoid of the softness she'd come to expect from him.

"What did you do?" she whispered, her voice sharp with disbelief and dread.

"I did what I had to, to save your fucking life, your highness," he spat, his tone clipped, his words laced with venom.

The force of his glare hit her like a physical blow, and she recoiled slightly. His eyes bore into hers, seething with silent accusations that pressed heavily on her chest. The guilt rising within her was suffocating, clawing at her insides as she confronted the wrath reflected in his expression.

Eko's breath quickened as the tension between them grew unbearable, heavier than the magic that had saved her. Fear coiled tightly in her stomach, not from the battle she had barely survived, but from him. Matthew's fury radiated off him in waves, thickening the air and wrapping around her like a noose. Her heart thundered in her chest, threatening to drown her in its frantic rhythm.

Then, with a simple, calculated gesture, Matthew raised his hand. Before she could process his intent, his power surged and enveloped her. The world around her blurred as the magic tore her from the planet. In an instant, Eko vanished from his sight.

Throughout their years as warriors, they had never mastered such magic—such control. How had Matthew gained the power to transport her without accompanying her? The question gnawed at her as her body was drawn through the magical plane, her thoughts tumbling in chaos.

When her feet finally touched solid ground, she staggered, her senses reeling. The familiar realm of Isadora unfolded around her, a stark contrast to the chaos she had just escaped. She stood on the edge of a towering cliff, overlooking the vast, endless expanse of the ocean. The moon, now a distant orb, hung low in the sky, casting its pale glow over the restless waves. The horizon burned with the fiery hues of sunrise, a breathtaking display of oranges, pinks, and golds that felt at odds with the turmoil still churning inside her.

The cool sea breeze brushed against her skin, momentarily soothing the ache in her body. She tasted the salt in the air, the rhythmic crash of the waves below grounding her amidst the chaos still echoing in her mind. It was the planet in the far distance that captivated Eko's gaze, radiating the beginnings of a golden paradox of light. Weaving streams of magic rippled across the skies, an intricate dance of energy that painted the heavens in a kaleidoscope of brilliance.

Her fleeting reverie was interrupted by movement in the distance. A group of Mages and Elders hurried toward her, their faces a mixture of relief and concern. Among them was Teshia, her wide eyes betraying disbelief as she took in the sight of Eko standing on the cliff's edge, battered and bloodied but undeniably alive.

Teshia's hand flew to her mouth, unable to mask her shock as her gaze swept over Eko's stained and torn attire. Fresh blood painted her clothes, stark against the soft hues of dawn, a visceral reminder of the ordeal she had just endured. Eko, still caught in the whirlwind of her thoughts, instinctively ran her hands over her chest, pausing where the wound had been. Her fingers brushed over smooth, unmarked skin, and for a moment, she stared, bewildered by the impossibility of Matthew's healing.

Her clothes, however, were drenched in blood, the dried stains mingling with fresh, and bruises adorned her arms and legs—fresh marks added to the tapestry of scars she had earned over the years. Each a story of survival, yet none weighed as heavily on her as the thought of the battle still raging far from this place.

"Eko?" Teshia's voice broke through the stillness, trembling with disbelief. She took a hesitant step forward, her mind racing with unanswered questions

Eko met her gaze, shaking her head with determined finality. It was clear—she had no intention of staying on this cliff while Matthew remained on where ever the hell they had been, facing their enemy alone.

"Don't!" Teshia cried, her voice rising in alarm as she recognized the determination in Eko's expression, she knew that this woman would not stand still.

Ignoring her, Eko stretched out her hands, sparks of magic crackling faintly at her fingertips. She closed her eyes, willing herself back to the planet. But the faint light fizzled and died, her powers depleted from the ordeal. Frustration mounted as Eko tried again and again, each attempt ending in failure.

"Work, Jesus, work!" Eko screamed, her voice cracking with desperation. Her hands shook violently as she stared at the faint sparks flickering and dying at her fingertips. "Please, God! WORK! TAKE ME BACK TO HIM!"

Teshia watched helplessly, her heart breaking at the sight of Eko's unraveling. She could see the agony etched into every line of her friend's face, the tears streaming unchecked down her cheeks. "Eko," she called softly, taking a tentative step forward. "Stop. Please, stop."

But Eko didn't stop. She couldn't. Her trembling hands reached out again, summoning every ounce of strength she could muster. The sparks flared and fizzled out once more, the failure only fueling her desperation. Her voice was hoarse as she begged the universe for answers, for something to happen.

With sudden urgency, Teshia stepped forward, closing the gap between them, and wrapped her arms tightly around Eko's trembling frame. "Stay!" she pleaded, her voice breaking with raw emotion. "You have to stay. Please, they're after you! You, your highness!"

Eko stiffened against her embrace, her breath hitching as despair surged within her. Her entire body shook, wracked by emotion and exhaustion, her magic stubbornly refusing to respond. "I can't stay here!" she cried, her voice shattering under the weight of her anguish. Tears streamed down her face, soaking into Teshia's shoulder as she choked out, "oh god!"

She struggled to pull away, her hands trembling as she tried again to summon her magic, to force herself back to him. But the sparks at her fingertips fizzled into nothingness, mocking her desperation. Frustration spilled over into rage as she screamed, her entire body convulsing with the effort. "Let me go back! Take me back!"

Her words echoed into the void, shattering the fragile stillness of the cliffside. Each syllable reverberated with raw emotion, a cry born of unrelenting love and unbearable fear. The thought of Matthew facing their enemy alone clawed at her chest, suffocating her, tearing at her resolve. It had always been the two of them—always side by side, weathering every storm.

Teshia's grip on Eko tightened, her arms unyielding as she held her against the breaking tide of her despair. Eko hunched over, her cries ripping through the air as she screamed into the vast emptiness beyond the cliff's edge. "Matthew!" she sobbed, her voice breaking with desperation. She called out again and again, pleading for him to answer, for some sign of his presence, of their friends, of anyone.

But the void remained silent, and the only sound was the crash of waves below, that only deepened their sense of isolation. Teshia clung to her, whispering words of comfort she wasn't sure Eko could hear, her own tears mingling with the unspoken fear that neither of them could shake, this was going to change everything.