The marrow chains pulsed, no longer dragging, no longer binding, but singing. The Tower's groan deepened into a new rhythm, neither silence nor decree, but heartbeat.
Above, the cracks in the dominion sky did not close—they changed. The rivers of raw law, memory, and silence bent into constellations, refracted through Roselia's stars, echoed through Liliana's hymn, bound by Naval's flame, defied by Milim's fire, endured by Roman's grit, and conducted by Leon's marrow.
The Tower was not restored. It was reborn.
Naval lowered his blade, eyes glinting with something like pride. "So that's your answer, Leon. Not one Throne, not none… but all together."
Roselia's stars dimmed into a calm orbit. "Resonance instead of dominion. Dangerous… but true."
Liliana whispered, voice frayed but resolute. "The marrow will never be silent again."
Milim cackled, throwing her head back. "Hah! Finally, a Tower that's fun."
