Nox heard Tameka’s strangled, desperate cry from across the battlefield. It rang through the winning ranks of the Shadow. Each unit had gained ground against Celindria’s puppets, despite introducing the drones. The cunning First Progeny no doubt noted how easily they fell to Fury and exacted the price out of the woman’s volition.

“Tameka!” Xelan charged for her, along with any Shadow not otherwise engaged.

Beside Nox, Rayne laid down three enemies with blows from her separated Night Killer and zapped another three with nacre-disabling stunners. Her graceful twirls and evasive cartwheels captivated Nox, who, though agile, could never match her grace.

Celindria’s Verse was a smudged ruin down Nox’s front, mingling with the drying indigo of his blood. Although they intended their targets no harm, the opposing side would not say the same. Rayne and Nox suffered gouges and gashes deadly to nacre bearers not as upgraded as their own. Hell, Nox was still trying to regain the feeling in his arm from a severed nerve. His fingers tingled, but refused to respond for at least thirty seconds. That equated to an hour on the battlefield.

Every second counted, especially as they began to feel the effects of Tameka’s ability.

Tired.

Nox hadn’t felt fatigue like this since the day he fell to Rayne. Shouts and cries erupted among the Shadow. Korac and Sagan played the role of Generals and gave orders to hold the line for some and for others to take the offensive on Tameka. Anything and everything to disable Fury’s nacre was the call.

Rayne, straining from the increasing inertia, shouted into her earpiece, “Nox, I’m breaking the line to help with Tameka—”

A vacuum swallowed the sound. No clashing. No grunting. Everyone reacted—Celindria’s puppets included—searching for the cause.

But Nox could see it. He whirled on Rayne to find her staring at him with her Atramentous activated. Something was wrong, and it wasn’t Celindria. All of her soldiers noticed Rayne’s odd behavior, and each stopped fighting and falling into the Source to stare at Rayne.

Her Shadow…

It wasn’t her shape. It was—

The moment the realization struck him, Nox had three seconds to shout, “ELDEN!” before the magnesium field exploded from Rayne’s eyes. Nox’s alarm penetrated the vacuum.

Through the searing agony, he fumbled for his eye shields, hoping he gave the others warning enough to do the same. Unfortunately, Celindria had equipped most of her army with similar accessories.

“Rayne!” Nox tossed Celindria’s pleading puppets aside in the blanket of white light to reach Rayne. “Elden?!”

When he found her, Rayne—Elden within her body—stood on the precipice looking into one of Celindria’s horizontal conduits. It led into a howling void. In the scene above it, Nox glimpsed a wondrous sight.

The rainbow rings of Thailea peeked through the eye of the planet’s perpetual storm, hovering over a snowy mountain surrounded by a tornado of black flames.

“Rayne.”

Nox’s voice affected her the same, even with Elden in control. The Icarean deity faced his grandson with an alien expression. Fortuitously, or perhaps not, Silence arrived at the same moment. Elden’s expression became less remote and more grief-stricken.

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“Our happiness was Eternal to most, but not near long enough for me.”

That was not Rayne’s voice.

Silence glanced at Nox before taking a step toward Elden in Rayne’s body. She reached out and cupped the girl’s face, and Elden leaned into it. A tear poured an iridescent river down Rayne’s face before evaporating.

The Mother of the galaxy asked, “What will you do with this child, Elden? Will you return her unbroken?”

Rayne’s hand covered Silence’s on her face. Without truly answering the question, Elden said, “This must end. Rayne will fulfill her vow to me.”

Lucas and the man called ‘Smith’ arrived, but kept their distance.

The look Elden gave them was not friendly. “One. Midas. And I see Tumu never strays far from your side. You owe us.”

Nox understood Elden meant him and Silence, their relationship and legacy.

Smith smiled at the mentioned name, and Lucas took a step forward, assuring Elden, “Finish it, and you will know peace.”

Elden as Rayne nodded, and when Nox realized that was the Icarean deity’s cue to dive into the conduit, Nox shouted, “Wait!”

Elden stopped and faced his grandson once again.

“Leave Rayne. Use me, forefather. Whatever you intend upon her, however you use her, she deserves better. That woman you’re occupying has suffered enough. I am the son of the man who ruined your daughter’s life. Punish me. Take me in Rayne’s stead.”

Rayne’s Atramentous gaze—Li on fire in her eyes—looked Nox up and down. In his booming baritone, Elden said, “You will not survive. She is the only one upgraded enough to face the Source, to face the owner of Paradise.”

Nox took another step forward and swallowed before saying, “I know Rayne’s inside her mind, telling you not to let me. But you know better than anyone the life of a martyr never leads to happiness.”

Elden and Silence turned and looked at one another. To her namesake, the conversation between them contained no words, but their mournful expression said it all. Silence bowed her head, and Elden reached Rayne’s hand out to Nox.

When Nox took it and accepted the nanite transfer of Elden inside himself, a conversation he’d had just yesterday with Korac played in his head, replacing the bone-searing agony.

The boys crouched on a tree branch as the girls wandered the forest to find one another. They’d chuckled at their clever strategy to disarm their women, well aware of the brutality of their future comeuppance. Despite impending lumps, it was a glorious moment.

Korac nudged Nox. “But we got here in the end, didn’t we? You with Rayne. Me with Sagan. And Xelan with Tameka.”

Spelled out that way, it seemed like a fairytale, but Nox was thoroughly convinced the ending wouldn’t be so happy. The former King of Cinder kept his eyes on the ground, fearing Rayne’s wrath, but managed an affirmative humph.

Apparently, it wasn’t the response Korac had wanted to hear. “What is it, Nox?”

Nox considered what was really troubling him. He asked, “Does Sagan ever profess her love to you?”

“All the time. Why? Doesn’t Rayne?” Korac sounded as if he knew the answer already.

Nox let his silence answer the question.

Korac said, “Well, it’s probably because you use words like ‘profess.’”

Nox glared at his General until Korac broke into a smirk, drawing a chuckle from Nox.

The next Korac said with a less playful tone. “Besides, Sagan doesn’t always say it in words. She has these little smiles she only gives to me. Laughing at all of my jokes. This look I catch on her face sometimes when she’s staring at me. Like she’s the luckiest woman in the Twelve Worlds, and it’s completely the other way around. Does Rayne do anything like that?”

Nox thought of Rayne’s sweet smile, her bright laughter, and her affecting glances.

The former King of Cinder said, “Once, when I was scaling a fish, I glimpsed her across the room. She was staring at me with so much appreciation. I’m uncertain if it’s like what you described, but I imagined there were other times I may have missed. Perhaps she is too careful to let it show. Or perhaps there’s not that much between us. But… her smile…”

Korac sounded more convinced. “Yeah. That’s the one. Lights you up inside. Makes you feel capable of anything.”

Nox smiled, saying, “Yes, that’s the one,” seconds before Rayne pushed them off the branch.

She’d wanted to say it the night before, and he wouldn’t let her.

Now Rayne would never get the chance to tell Nox she loved him. He only hoped he’d said it enough for the both of them.