The walls pulsed.
The chamber dimmed.
The echo pressed the blade's hilt against Lindarion's chest.
"Take it," it whispered again, "and face the part of yourself you reject."
Lindarion's jaw tightened.
He reached out—
and the moment his fingers brushed the hilt—
the entire chamber ignited.
Light and shadow spiraled upward like twin serpents, coiling around his arm, his core, his mind. The echo dissolved into him, sinking into his marrow like returning blood.
Lindarion gasped.
He staggered.
The blade dissolved into particles of light that threaded into his veins.
The chamber floor cracked beneath him from the force of the resonance.
The voice spoke once more:
"Inheritance synchronizing."
"Identity confirmed."
"You are not the devourer's heir… but the one who will decide the devourer's fate."
Lindarion's vision blurred.
He fell to one knee, gripping his chest as the last echoes of light sank in.
His breathing steadied slowly.
And when he finally lifted his head—
