The alley behind Ember Hollow was quiet now. The flames had receded, but the scent of burnt metal still lingered in the air. Elira stood alone, shoulders rising and falling with every breath, her gauntlets dimmed but still warm.
Kael hadn't spoken since they returned.
Elira didn't blame him.
She didn't recognize herself either.
"You went too far," Kael finally said, his voice like cold steel. "You crushed him."
Elira turned slowly. "He would've killed us."
"There was another way."
She looked at her hands, still stained with ash and blood. "Maybe… but I don't know how to be soft anymore."
Kael's jaw tightened. "That's not who you were, Elira."
"No," she whispered. "But it's who I need to be now."
Dante watched from the shadows, his expression unreadable. There was a storm coming — one they hadn't prepared for. And somewhere in the depths of the arcane world, the villain watched them too. Smiling.