The silence after the Star's death was deafening.
Ethan lay on the scorched earth of the Veyra estate, his body a battlefield of fading gold sigils and stubborn void veins.
The dawn light painted the ruins in colors of rust and bone, exposing the scars of their war.
Mara knelt beside him, her fingers hovering over the blackened cracks spiderwebbing across his chest.
"You look like shit," she muttered, pressing a damp cloth to his forehead. It sizzled.
Ethan winced.
"Feel worse."
Jarek limped into view, his right arm now just a stump wrapped in charred bandages. The void's corruption had eaten the rest.
"The Order's remnants are scattering. For now." He tossed a cracked mirror at Mara. "Found this in the rubble. Thought you'd want to see."
The glass reflected not their faces, but a distant city Blackstone, the Order's stronghold. Figures in familiar robes moved through its streets, their masks discarded.
At their center stood a man with Mara's sharp cheekbones and Jarek's cruel smile, his hands crackling with green-tinged shadows.
Mara's blood went cold. "Rylan."
Ethan forced himself upright, his vision swimming.
"Your other brother, I'm guessing?"
"Worse." She crushed the mirror underfoot. "The Order's true master. And now he's harvesting what's left of the Star."
The Keeper's voice slithered from the ruins, his form reduced to a wisp of smoke.
"Clever girl. Rylan always was... ambitious."
Jarek stomped on the shadow, scattering it.
"Shut up, father."
Ethan's locket, now dull and cracked burned against his skin. He pried it open. Inside, Liora's portrait had changed. Her dagger was now pointed outward as if striking at the viewer. A single word gleamed on the silver.
'ECHOES.'
The ground trembled. Somewhere far off, a child screamed.
Blackstone's outer gates lay in ruins. The refugees whispered of a green dawn and a man who walked through walls. Mara adjusted her stolen Order cloak, the hood casting her face in shadow.
Beside her, Ethan leaned heavily on a rusted staff, his breaths labored.
"You're dying," she said bluntly.
He smirked.
"Been dying for weeks."
Jarek scouted ahead, his remaining hand gripping a knife.
"Rylan's in the cathedral. And he's not alone."
The streets were too quiet. The air smelled of ozone and rotting fruit. Then they saw them, the Hollowed. Townsfolk with void-black eyes and star-scorched skin, shuffling toward the cathedral in perfect unison.
Mara's grip on her crossbow tightened.
"He's making an army."
Ethan's corrupted veins pulsed in time with the Hollowed's steps.
"No. He's making a door."
The cathedral's doors hung open, revealing Rylan above the altar, his arms outstretched. The Hollowed knelt around him, their mouths moving in silent prayer.
Above them, the stained-glass depiction of the Shattered Mirror bled green light.
"Sister!" Rylan's voice boomed, his grin manic. "You're just in time!"
Mara fired. The bolt disintegrated inches from his chest.
Rylan sighed. "Still predictable." He flicked his wrist, and the Hollowed turned as one. "But you brought me a gift." His gaze locked on Ethan. "The Duskheir's last spark."
Ethan's staff clattered to the ground as the corruption in his veins surged, answering Rylan's call. His vision went black at the edges.
Mara grabbed his arm.
"Fight it!"
Jarek charged, knife aimed at Rylan's throat.
"For our family!"
Rylan caught the blade bare-handed, blood dripping onto the altar.
"Family dies," he whispered.
The cathedral screamed.