[Kivana Novastia.]
The sky was a pale, almost lifeless blue, stretching over mountains that rose high and wide.
The city before me was grand, its walls towering and lined with watchful gunmen and steel-eyed archers.
Yet even its splendor could not disguise the tension in the air.
For Uhana to summon me here, I could only assume the worst.
Rosen's name had not been mentioned, and more troubling still, I could not feel his presence anywhere.
I advanced slowly, making sure the guards noticed my approach. My aura brushed out just enough to ease their caution.
Around me, the people moved in silence, faces either empty or etched with quiet grief and muted sympathy.
Their stillness weighed on me far more than any spoken words could.
The small manor stood nestled within this reclaimed land, and as I neared it, a cold realization settled over me.
Something had happened here, something final.
Uhana's presence radiated from within, heavy and suffocating. It was as if she and Rosen had merged into one vast, immovable force.
Two men stood at the gate, uniforms pressed, rifles slung across their backs, longswords at their sides.
They exchanged a brief, knowing glance before opening the way.
The moment I stepped through, a heat unlike anything I'd felt before descended upon me, oppressive, consuming, almost alive.
Then, from the manor's great doors, Uhana emerged.
And with her came a dread so deep it seemed to darken the very air between us.
She stepped forward slowly, each movement measured, until she stood close enough for me to see the strain in her eyes. Then, with the faintest bow, she spoke.
"It's time we destroy those bastards."
I didn't think. I reached out, and in an instant, she was in my arms.
No resistance, no hesitation, just the weight of her pressed against me, as if holding her together was the only thing I could do.
Her shoulders shook, soft sniffles breaking into stifled sobs.
Between ragged breaths, she cursed them, each word sharpened with hatred, spitting their names as though the sound alone could tarnish their memory.
It was clear now. He was gone.
And yet… Uhana had changed. There was more weight in her presence, more depth in her resolve.
She felt stronger, not just in power, but in something far rarer.
When her crying slowed and her breath steadied, I loosened my hold enough to see her face.
A faint smile found its way to my lips. "Tell me… what is it you want to do?"
We had fought together for so long, against nameless followers, against apostles, against deranged zealots.
Somewhere along the way, we had grown closer. But never had she shown me herself so bare, so open, so unguarded.
Her eyes met mine. "Kivana, all I want to do is pick up a sword and slaughter the lot of them."
I could not fathom the pain she felt in losing someone she loved. But I could help her carry it.
I took her hands gently, holding them between my own. "Then tell me… what do you want me to do?"
A faint smile curved her lips. "I found a way to break through the barrier. All I want is for you and everyone else to wait."
My voice caught. "Wait? What do you mean… wait?"
Her grip tightened, her fingers warm but trembling. "I'm going there. And I'm going to fight with everything I have."
Before I could form a reply, she released me. Her eyes burned with an unshakable light.
"I will not falter. Nor will I stay behind. I will continue until my goals are fulfilled."
Then, without a word, she lifted her shirt, just enough to reveal a mark etched into her skin. The image of a leopard, proud and unyielding.
"You… Uhana… you have his mark?"
She straightened, lifting her chin high, her voice steady and unwavering.
"I have his resolution. I have his mercy and his grace. I carry both his burden and his blessing."
And in that moment, I saw it, truly saw it.
She was no longer the woman I had once known.
Something within her had shifted, hardened, and yet… there was a light that refused to be dimmed.
She had become something entirely different.
High above, in the unreachable expanse of the Heavens, there are beings we deem godly.
Many bear great power, many radiate divine might.
But there is only one we call The Shepherd.
The eternal and righteous one, almighty and merciful, whose judgment falls upon all creation by a scale only he can perceive.
It is unlikely the Heavens even know of this war raging on Earth.
Yet Gabriel's presence was seen in this realm, which means the truth is far more troubling, something, or someone, is concealing us from their gaze.
That alone demands another goal: not only must we defeat the Saints, but we must uncover the force that hides this world from Heaven itself.
I reached out, placing my hands gently on her shoulders. "It's time I reveal to you the truth."
Her eyes searched mine, worry stirring behind their calm surface. "Go on."
I drew in a slow breath. "I can, rather I could, once see the future. With no limit. But the last vision I saw was unlike any before."
She tensed, bracing herself, her eyes almost already knowing my next revelation.
"There was nothing," I said quietly.
"No future for me. No future for Nicholas, who is already gone. No future for anyone still living."
Her hand rose to her mouth, her voice trembling. "Do you mean…?"
I nodded. "The threat we face… it is one that will either free this world, as it claims, or erase it entirely, down to the last soul."
She looked as if she were searching for words that did not exist, reaching for something that could be spoken yet had no shape in language.
Her lips parted once, then closed. No answer came.
She stood there, caught in the stillness between thought and voice, perpetually stunned in the wake of my revelation.
It was the same look Mirabel had worn before she cast me out.
The same quiet that settled over Cole before he sealed his lands and vanished from the world.
When a person is faced with an ultimate dilemma, when there is no path forward that does not demand the sacrifice of something dear, they are stripped bare.
The fragile masks we wear, masks of duty, masks of composure, masks of carefully rehearsed convictions, fall away.
And what remains is not the version of ourselves we present to the world, but the one that endures in the marrow of our being.
The truest self is rarely the most beautiful.
It is raw and entirely untamed.
It clings neither to the illusions of the past nor the hopes of a perfect future.
It accepts reality as it is… and in doing so, becomes something unbreakable.
I suspected that in time, Uhana would reveal this to me, whether she willed it or not.
I opened my mouth to speak, but she found her voice before I could.
"You forgot an option, Kivana," she said quietly. "You forgot the option where we live."
I scoffed, a bitter sound. "Your arrogance is showing, Uhana. We've only taken losses so far."
She tilted her head back, eyes tracing the gray heavens above, and as she did, the first drops of rain began to fall.
"Then," she said, her voice almost a vow, "we shall continue in a better light."
There was something in her gaze that hadn't been there before.
A resolve sharpened not only by grief, but by the will to surpass it.
It rivaled Rosen's in strength, and perhaps even surpassed it.
For his ambitions had been grand, but hers… hers were all-encompassing.