Silence.
Real silence.
Not the tense silence before battle.
Not the fearful silence before disaster.
Peace.
The moment Azhrael crossed the threshold, the pressure crushing reality vanished.
The mountain stopped shaking.
The sky above Black Hollow healed completely.
The crack in existence sealed itself with silver light before fading into the stars.
And suddenly—
it was over.
Midnight stood frozen.
Waiting for something else to happen.
Another monster. Another prophecy. Another impossible choice.
Nothing came.
The abyss beneath Draven Ridge pulsed softly.
Content.
The throne glowed silver.
Calm.
For the first time since awakening her powers, Midnight couldn't hear:
whispers
commands
hunger
Only quiet.
Tears slipped down her cheeks unexpectedly.
The demon inside her
