Bastion was no longer a city that slept in shadow.
MageCores lined the streets. Wind Cells buzzed softly above rooftops. Hydraulic Dynamos hummed beneath stones. Hospitals, libraries, stables—even the oldest watchtowers—glowed with warm, consistent light.
In the dead of night, a small child wandered from her cot, afraid of shadows. But the hallway never went dark. Her mother smiled.
On the palace roof, Sharath stood with Elina, watching.
"Look at them," she whispered. "They're dreaming in safety."
He nodded.
"Let that be our legacy—not just invention, but peace. Not just light… but hope."
And below, the stars were outshone.
Not by magic. But by intention.