The last three enemies lowered their weapons.
Slowly.
Not because they believed mercy was likely, but because running had become a joke that Horizon would punish.
Silence spread over the battlefield.
Then the twins' voices rang out in unison.
""We surrender.""
The twins stood shoulder to shoulder, their Synchrony still tight even in surrender.
The Riftglass stood in silence, its sharp features twisted into something ugly and strained. It said nothing, but whatever arrogance it once carried had completely drained from its expression.
Just then...
Every allied gaze shifted, converging on a single point.
Lucien.
Even the enemy Eternals felt it. The strangest part was not that an Ascendant stood among the group.
It was that the Eternals were waiting for his decision.
Their fate had been placed in his hands as if the world itself had signed the transfer.
Lucien hovered behind and reached out with divine sense.
His brows lowered.
