I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. The world had narrowed to this single moment—Lyra's fading form in my arms, her sacrifice saving us all while tearing my heart to pieces. Her body was barely substantial now, light passing through her translucent skin as if she were made of nothing more than morning mist.
"No," I whispered again, my voice breaking. "This isn't how it ends."
Above us, the heart-gem of the Earth Primordial continued to pulse with vibrant, purified energy. The emerald light bathed the cavern, erasing the last vestiges of corruption from the ancient stone. Where moments before the very air had felt poisoned and wrong, now each breath carried life and renewal.
Yet what did any of it matter if Lyra had to die?
