The words drifted through the light like a final benediction—not an ending, but a promise that lingered long after the sound itself had faded.
The aurora arced high above them, unfolding like wings. Its radiance spilled across the newborn world—over the rivers of resonance, across the shards of once-shattered realms, and into the heart of the city waiting ahead. The light was not uniform; it danced, imperfect and wild, alive in every hue.
Roselia tilted her face upward, letting the starlight wash over her. "It's beautiful," she murmured, voice soft as breath. "For the first time… it feels like the Tower isn't testing us anymore."
Liliana smiled faintly, her threads glimmering at her fingertips as they traced the path ahead. "That's because it isn't a Tower now," she said. "It's a voice—and we're walking inside its song."
Milim stretched her arms wide, laughing in quiet disbelief. "A voice, a dream, a city… next you'll tell me it's gonna start growing trees or something."
