Two days passed in Atlantis, and though the sun didn't rise and fall, the heart still glowed over the glittering towers as always, the rhythm of life for Helios, Skuld, and Kurai was markedly different.
For Skuld, those days were busy. From morning until the first evening bells, she was surrounded by eager faces, teaching the remaining class of Atlantean youths. Her patient instruction filled the courtyards with sparks of magic—rippling sheets of ice, small bursts of water, and the occasional puff of harmless steam. The children hung on her every word, their excitement matched only by their determination to show her what they'd learned.
Kurai, however, seemed untouched by the city's warmth. She spent most of her time inside the guest chambers, sitting in the corner like a coiled shadow. Her gaze often drifted to the balcony, where she would watch the world pass below without comment. She left the room rarely, speaking only when spoken to.
Helios took to wandering. His feet carried him more than once back to the tall building where Axel had first appeared, the stone pathways and quiet balconies feeling oddly familiar now. But Axel never returned. Each visit ended the same way—with Helios leaning on the railing, staring over the city, the memory of their confrontation heavy on his mind.
By the second evening, their luggage, which was little but what was given by Kida, were packed, their purpose here complete. The decision to leave came quietly, but with a sense of finality.
The morning of their departure, the palace steps were lined with friends and well-wishers.
Helios clasped Milo's hand firmly. "Thanks for everything. You've both been more help than you know."
Milo adjusted his glasses, trying for a casual smile. "Just doing my part. But… take care of yourself, Helios. Whoever that hooded figure was, they won't be the last danger you run into."
Helios smirked faintly. "Wouldn't be my life if it were easy."
Kida stood nearby, her usual regal composure softened with warmth. "Atlantis will always welcome you back. Our gates will be open, should you ever need shelter—or allies."
"Good to know," Helios said, meaning it.
While he spoke, Skuld was practically engulfed by a small crowd. The Atlantean children crowded around her legs, their bright eyes shimmering with tears.
"Teacher, you can't go yet!" one girl cried, clinging to her sleeve.
"We'll work really hard to get better!" another boy promised, his voice cracking as he tried not to cry.
Several others echoed the sentiment, calling her "teacher" again and again, promising to practice every day until she returned.
Skuld knelt so she could meet their eyes. "I know you will. And when I come back, I expect to see magic so good it surprises even me. Deal?"
A chorus of sniffly "deal!" followed, their little hands squeezing hers before reluctantly letting go.
Across the steps, Kurai stood apart, her cold presence a quiet barrier. Most people instinctively kept their distance. She didn't seem to mind.
But then Kida approached her, hand extended.
For a fraction of a second, Kurai's eyes narrowed in surprise. She glanced at the offered hand as if trying to decipher the gesture's meaning. Finally, she reached out and shook it, her grip brief but firm.
"You fought for my city," Kida said simply. "I thank you for that."
Kurai inclined her head the barest degree. "I do what I choose. That's all."
Kida smiled faintly at the cryptic answer before stepping back.
It was a farewell that carried both warmth and the unspoken weight of mutual respect.
The time for words ended.
Helios summoned Equilibrium in a flash of silver and black light, spinning it in his hand before tossing it into the air. The blade split into its twin forms—light and dark—before dissolving into spirals of energy. They twisted together into the Eclipsera, its twin crescent-blade wings gleaming in silver and shadow. The central eclipse ring spun slowly, leaving a trail of balanced light and darkness in the air.
To his left, Skuld raised her keyblade, Ravenveil Whisper. Shadows and streaks of electric-blue energy raced along its length before it morphed into her sleek, matte-black glider. Angular wings unfurled like a raven in flight, the electric-blue veins pulsing with restrained power. The craft hovered silently, deadly and elegant.
Kurai's transformation was darker still. The Shadow Sovereign unraveled into segmented lengths of blackened metal, each edged in glowing amethyst. They snapped together into the Umbra Serpentis, its dragon-shaped prow exhaling a mist of shadow. Scythe-like fins slid into place, and its segmented body coiled slightly, ready to strike forward.
The three gliders floated side by side, a tableau of balance, stealth, and darkness.
Helios jumped onto his glider and glanced back at Milo and Kida. "We'll see each other again. Try not to let the place fall apart while we're gone."
Kida's answering smile was tinged with both pride and worry. "Safe travels."
With a nod, Helios turned toward the volcano's distant silhouette.
The three gliders lifted in unison, streaking away from Atlantis. The city's white towers shrank behind them, replaced by the shifting greens and blues of the surrounding waters.
The journey to the volcano was swift. Steam curled from vents in the black stone as they descended toward the scorched plateau. Here, the air was hot and dry, carrying the scent of sulfur.
Helios landed first, dismounting and stepping toward an open patch of ground. He raised his hand, and the air warped—swirling shadows forming into a spinning oval of darkness. The edges bled faint traces of silver light before settling into the deep black of a completed corridor.
The dark corridor pulsed faintly, its unseen depths promising passage to another world.
Helios looked over his shoulder at the others. "Ready?"
Skuld gave a single, steady nod. Kurai only smirked faintly, already guiding her glider forward.
Without another word, they entered, their forms swallowed by the darkness as the portal closed behind them—leaving the volcano silent once more.