“Choose.”

  The word struck the chamber like a physical blow.

  Then the world went dark.

  Not dim.

  Not shadowed.

  Gone.

  As if the hound had swallowed every last thread of light in existence.

  Elijah gasped.

  He couldn’t see the floor beneath him.

  He couldn’t see his hands.

  He couldn’t see the crew.

  Only the hound’s voice remained.

  “CHOOSE!”

  The command boomed through his skull, vibrating through bone and blood. Elijah staggered, clutching at nothing, breath ragged.

  Anger surged up his throat—hot, choking, blinding.

  Angry at being helpless.

  Angry at being told he had no choice.

  Angry at a lifetime of being powerless.

  Angry that the only power he’d ever known was a curse that hurt the people around him.

  Angry that this ancient thing dared to demand he become a monster.

  The hound’s voice roared again, shaking the void.

  “CHOOSE!”

  Something inside Elijah snapped.

  Not in fear.

  In defiance.

  A spark.

  A flare.

  A unity.

  His soul.

  Vaylren’s soul.

  Velnra’s soul.

  Three voices rising as one.

  Elijah threw his head back and screamed—not with his throat, but with his entire being.

  “NO!”

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  Light exploded outward.

  Frost and lightning spring outward in a erratic pulse of power.

  More chaotic than the last time- powerful yet uncontrolled.

  A shockwave of raw will.

  A roar of three souls in perfect unison.

  The darkness shattered like glass.

  The chamber snapped back into focus—stone, murals, dust, the faint glow of the monolith. Elijah stood exactly where he had been, chest heaving, sweat dripping down his jaw.

  Alive.

  He spun around, heart pounding.

  Stella.

  Imala.

  Aidan.

  Casey.

  Jacob.

  Rodrick, slumped against the far wall.

  They were hurt, but they were all breathing.

  Elijah exhaled shakily.

  Then he looked back at the fragment.

  The hound was shrinking—its massive form collapsing inward, shadow peeling away like smoke in wind. Its silver eyes dimmed, no longer sharp, no longer predatory.

  When it spoke, its voice was softer.

  Almost… respectful.

  “You pass.”

  Elijah blinked.

  “What…?”

  But the fragment was already fading, dissolving into drifting wisps of silver that vanished into the cracks of the ruin leaving behind a smokey black-purple ball of energy that shot itself into Elijah's chest disappearing into his body.

  The Trial was over.

  And it had left more questions than answers.

  But there was no time to think.

  A deep, groaning crack tore through the chamber. Dust rained from the ceiling. Stone split underfoot.

  The ruins were collapsing.

  “Move!” Imala shouted as she staggered upright, grabbing Casey by the collar.

  Aidan hauled Jacob to his feet. Stella rushed to Rodrick, who was barely conscious.

  Elijah stumbled after them, legs trembling. He fell behind almost immediately.

  The floor buckled. A pillar crashed down inches from his shoulder.

  He thought—for a moment—that they would leave him.

  That this was where he’d be abandoned.

  Where he’d be swallowed by the ruin like so many before him.

  But Rodrick turned back.

  Even half?dazed, bleeding from the temple, he reached Elijah in three long strides and hauled him over his shoulder.

  “Not leaving you,” Rodrick growled. “Hold on.”

  Elijah looked visibly stunned.

  That moment meant something.

  More than Rodrick would ever know.

  They burst out of the collapsing ruin just as the entrance caved in behind them. The crew sprinted across the sand, boarded the Luna Raven, and fired the engines.

  The ship lifted off, pulling away from the crumbling island as it sank into the depths of the Cloud Sea. The ruin vanished beneath swirling mist and falling stone.

  For a moment, it seemed like everything was finally over.

  Then—

  A low, mechanical rumble rolled across the sky.

  The crew looked up.

  A massive silhouette descended through the clouds—steel plating, glowing runes, the unmistakable crest of the Veilguard.

  A patrol ship.

  Its speakers crackled to life.

  “Halt your engines and surrender your vessel. You are under arrest for suspicion of researching the Millennium Gap.”

  The Luna Raven cut through the Cloud Sea in a low, steady glide, its engines humming like a tired heartbeat. Mist curled around the hull, hiding them from the Veilguard patrol circling somewhere above.

  Inside the ship, the adrenaline had finally begun to drain—leaving only silence, exhaustion, and the weight of what had just happened.

  Elijah sat on the floor near the central table, knees pulled to his chest, still trembling. His clothes were torn, his skin streaked with dust and dried sweat. The seal beneath his shirt pulsed faintly, like it was still remembering the Trial.

  Stella knelt beside him, gently wiping the dirt from his cheek with a damp cloth.

  “You’re safe,” she murmured. “We’re all safe.”

  Elijah didn’t answer.

  He wasn’t sure he believed it.

  Across the room, Imala slammed her hammer down on the table—not in anger, but to keep herself upright. Her arms shook from the strain of holding the collapsing ruin at bay.

  “Next time,” she growled, “we’re not going into any ancient death?temples without backup.”

  Aidan let out a weak laugh.

  “Next time? You think there’s gonna be a next time.”

  Casey groaned from the couch, clutching his ribs.

  “Please don’t say ‘next time.’ I’m still seeing double.”

  Jacob sat beside him, staring at the broken remains of his camera.

  “My footage… all of it… gone.”

  Hokori, perched near the helm, flicked an ear.

  “You are alive. That is preferable to footage.”

  Jacob sighed.

  “Yeah. I know. Doesn’t mean it hurts less.”

  Rodrick sat slumped against the wall, head tipped back, breathing slow and shallow. Stella had bandaged the cut on his forehead, but he still looked pale—drained in a way Elijah had never seen.

  Elijah swallowed hard.

  “You… you came back for me.”

  Rodrick cracked one eye open.

  “Of course I did.”

  Elijah looked down at his hands.

  “I thought… I thought you’d leave me. After everything. After what I did. After the Trial.”

  Rodrick snorted—a tired, humorless sound.

  “Elijah, listen to me.”

  He pushed himself upright, wincing.

  “You didn’t choose that Trial. You didn’t choose your curse. And you didn’t choose what’s in your blood.”

  He leaned forward, voice low but steady.

  “But you chose us. And we choose you back.”

  Stella squeezed his shoulder.

  Imala nodded.

  Aidan gave a shaky thumbs?up.

  Casey managed a weak grin.

  Jacob lifted his broken camera in salute.

  Hokori simply said, “Pack stays together.”

  For the first time since the Trial, Elijah felt something warm in his chest—something that wasn’t fear or anger or the curse clawing at his ribs.

  Something like belonging.

  Unfamiliar, but welcome.