As Sharath chased shadows in laboratories and war rooms, Elina took to the streets.
Disguised, she walked among villagers, traders, and city guards. In a tavern in Vayanora, she overheard a merchant say:
"The king no longer rules. The gun does."
The words struck her harder than any arrow. At night, she confronted Sharath.
"You built it to protect. But it now defines us."
He looked up from blueprints. His face was gaunt. "And if I hadn't built it, we'd be dead."
"I know," she said, voice softening. "But when does necessity become habit?"
Sharath finally closed the parchment.
He stood, walked to the window, and stared into the dusk over a city lit by innovation, stained by scars.
"I'll dismantle it all," he whispered, "the day the world no longer needs thunder to listen."
But in the shadows of that very city, The Fallen Flame prepared a strike not at power…
…but at legacy.