Tierney transported Lyra to the same place she had been. The surrounding area was white with gray smoke surrounding the area. A singular person was alone in the emptiness of the area.

“Eamon?” Lyra recognized the long white hair. “Eamon, if you're in there, please look at me. It's Lyra.”

He didn't turn around. Lyra inched forward and was about to reach for his shoulder when Tierney’s disembodied voice shouted, that’s not him, Lyra!

Her instincts were up, and Lyra pulled out her sword, parrying in a blur. The object that rammed into her sword was met with a clang as Sword and dagger met.

The person mistakenly named Eamon gave Lyra a haunting look and grin. The reds of his eyes bore into her. Lyra glared back. The sparks from their steels ignited sparks that shot out.

“Blackthorn.” Lyra hissed menacingly. “Where. Is. He?”

“I told you, didn't I? I'd do whatever it takes to ensure you couldn't reach him.”

Lyra gritted her teeth. She pushed her sword further toward Blackthorn. The bright light illuminated the more she pushed.

“Seems like you've upgraded. Impressive, but it won't give you an edge.”

Something forced Lyra to back up. She pushed backward with her feet before Blackthorn propelled a dark ball of aura energy at Lyra.

“Quick with Precision. You've gotten stronger.”

“And you're nothing but a cheat. Now, where is Eamon?” She yelled at him.

One moment, Blackthorn was in front of Lyra, and the next, he was behind her. The back of Lyra’s neck stood on end. Heavy breathing crept along her skin. “Why don't you find out?”

Lyra’s eyes widened. She pivoted to see Blackthorn igniting a dark energy ball. She wouldn't be able to avoid the attack at their proximity. The only she could do was take the attack, except, that wasn't what happened.

Someone jumped at Blackthorn. The dark orb disappeared, being disrupted by someone who had pinned Blackthorn to the ground. The two wild meshes of white hair tussle to the ground.

One being Blackthorn, and the other–

“–Eamon.” The words were breathed past her lips.

“Stay away from her.” Eamon let out a predatory growl after standing to his feet. He faced the other version of himself.

Blackthorn chuckled. “Swooping at the last second. How chivalrous of you, but that won't save your girlfriend. Your soul is mine; you are what you are, and there's nothing you can do about it to change it.”

Eamon cinched. Blackthorn's words had more weight than either of them thought he had. How would he be able to fight back against himself?

“You're wrong,” Lyra stepped forward. She stood beside Eamon, who looked at her, but she was looking at Blackthorn. He is what he is, and that's okay. He still has a family that cares and loves him regardless of the past or what he or you did.”

Blackthorn sneered. His eyes bore into her. All the while, Eamon just stared at her.

“If he needs to believe that he is not human to free himself, so be it.” She turned to Eamon, breathing in deeply, then exhaling. “Eamon, no matter what you want to believe. You are a Homunculus. You may not have been fully conscious of the things you or Walsh made you do, but it happened. There's nothing you can do about it or change it….”

Eamon pressed his lips together. He said nothing as he let her speak. He searched her eyes and saw that there was so much she wanted to say, to admit as they stared at each other.

He was done running. Tired. All he wanted was to hear her voice.

“But you can rectify those things now. You can be the person you want to be now–much like I told Aurora–accepting who you are is half the battle. Once you do that, everything else will fall into place, and you don't have to do it alone. You know why?”

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She grabbed his hands, never breaking contact with him.

“Because you are loved. By your friends, family, and people whom we have met. Our Master, your father, and… me.”

Her face blushed. Her eyes vibrated as the truth she had held for so many years would finally be let go.

“I love you, Eamon, not just as family, friends, or partners. I want you in my life, romantically, and I always have. I want you, the good and the bad, the Homunculus. You. All of you.”

Tears shed in his eyes, and his heart leaped in his throat as she spoke those three words. There was no hesitation or conviction in her words or face. She meant every single word.

She loved him.

“Lyra, I–”

Loud clapping interrupted his speech. They turned to see Blackthorn lazily clapping with an amused grin.

“How cute. She finally admits to having feelings for you. What a climax, don't you say, Eamon? I, for one, saw that from a mile away, yet I still feel touched by her roaring speech. Bravo, Lysandra Ashbourne. Bravo!”

Lyra frowned. Her gaze glared at Blackthorn, wanting nothing more than to rip him apart.

“Unfortunately, I can't let this little story have a ‘Happy Ending’. No. You know why?” The humor on his face was gone and replaced with a dark and foreboding look. “Because this is my story.”

He lunged for Eamon. Lyra screamed his name as he pushed her back out of harm's way. His glare never took his eyes off the charging black aura blur that was Blackthorn.

Eamon stood his ground. He didn't flinch or look away. It was only a split second that Blackthorn froze mid-charge, a glowing orb of dark energy in his left hand about to end Eamon.

What? What's happening? I can't move my body! Blackthorn manically screamed into his thoughts. What did you do? You shouldn't have control of this body!

“Except you're wrong, Blackthorn, about everything,” Eamon told him.

Lyra stared in disbelief at the frozen Blackthorn suspending in the air, mid-attack stance. All the while, Eamon stood with rounded shoulders and faced the Shadow of his former self.

“It is, and will be, a happy ending. Do you know why?” Blackthorn gritted his teeth. He had no choice but to stay silent. “Because this is my story, and I will get to choose my life.”

He looked to Lyra. His hand was outstretched, and Lyra curled her fingers through his without hesitation. She tightened her grip on him, and they both looked at Blackthorn.

“You will no longer control the aspects of my life anymore. Homunculus or human, I decide what is best for me.”

Blackthorn sneered. You fool! I'm a part of you. I'll keep coming back, stronger than before. You won't be so lucky next time.

It was Lyra’s turn to give him a smirk. “Actually, no. You see, we have a powerful book and someone who can forever strip the Dormant part of you away.”

Realizing what she meant, Blackthorn's eyes widened, and for once in his long existence, he finally knew what the cold, heart-throbbing Pain of fear was.

In that sheer second, Blackthorn cried out an agonizing wail as his body started cracking, like a porcelain doll. Dark, purple light shone through the cracks. Blackthorn panicked. But it was too late–with a poof his ash-like remains exploded into black dust.

Lyra was pulled from Eamon's mind, and she found herself again in the doctor's room.

Tierney and Aurora were at her side, and Ludwig Klause, book in hand, pulled down his surgical mask and nodded.

“The erasure of the Dormant Blackthorn is gone.” he extended his arm and handed her the codex. She took it from his hands.

Eamon’s eyes opened.

Lyra gasped. Tears filled her eyes. Though his hair was still white and his eyes red, she could see him, her Eamon, in his eyes.

“Lyra,” he breathed out her name. Her heart beat wildly. “I love you, too.” His words were not said out loud but through their Kesync, causing tears to fall down her cheeks.

She rested her head on top of his. Touching his cheek. Gentle, nimble fingers touched hers as well.

For just a moment, it was only them.

At least in that moment. Riftblade glowed an iridescent white light from the sheathe and hummed with power. It was also in that instant that Lyra’s senses routed out the blood lust sensation and the terror from Aurora.

Everything happened in slow motion. Lyra unsheathed her sword as Aurora screamed. Tierney stumbled backward, and Eamon pulled the girl back with as much Zephyr as he could manage, pulling her to safety with the winds on his belt.

In the doorway, holding Aurora in the air, was a bandaged Figure with long black streaks of white. His red eyes bore into Lyra like that of a dead man.

Lyra took her stance, Riftblade; Alivier glowed intensely, facing the humanoid Of a monster.

Eamon hissed. He slinked off the table, pulling Tierney back behind the metal table and with the doctor out of harm's way.

“It's the Ash Borne demon,” Eamon told her. “The Homunculus that traveled with Blackthorn. The one that Walsh wanted.”

Only Lyra shook her head. She had felt it the moment he stepped through the doors. It wasn't just blood lust but a spark of recognition and realization.

It scared her more than she knew, but deep down, no matter what was on the inside, she couldn't let her guard down.

“No,” Lyra shook her head. Confident in her answer. “It's my father, Arcemedus Ashbourne. I'd recognize him anywhere.”

As if responding to the name, the demon Arcemedus blinked, but that was it. Whatever familiar part that Lyra sensed was buried deep or clinging to death, where the former Arcemedus no longer existed except for a shell of his former self.

Her father or not, Lyra knew–regrettably and painfully–that she would need to take him down at all costs.

Forgive me, daddy.