The silence that followed the collapse of the sterilization field wasn't peaceful; it was heavy, like the air before a tectonic shift. I stood at the edge of the pinnacle, my lungs burning from the thin, frozen air, watching the last of the red ionization vanish into the blackness of the upper atmosphere. My hands were still vibrating from the Song, the silver fire retreating into my marrow, leaving me hollowed out and shaking.
“It’s over,” Killian whispered behind me. His voice was a rasp, thick with exhaustion. I felt his hand on my shoulder—heavy, solid, and grounding. “Elara, look at the sky. It’s clear.”
But I couldn't look at the sky. My eyes were drawn back to the centre of the platform, where the Master Console was no longer pulsing with the frantic violet light of the Architec
