The obsidian altar pulsed with growing intensity, its heartbeat syncing with Nkosana's. The chamber's walls throbbed like a living entity, breathing in shadows and exhaling whispers of forgotten souls. A windless chill swept over them—neither natural nor magical, but ancient, aware, and watching.
Matsu knelt beside the altar, unraveling the scroll Liyana had given them. "This ritual was never meant to be used by mortals," he murmured. "It was buried for a reason."
Lira stepped closer to Nkosana. "You don't have to do this. There must be another way."
"There isn't," he replied. "If I don't sever the Demon Seed from the Veil, it will consume everything."
Kaede added, "But once the ritual starts, you can't stop it. And you might not survive."
Nkosana looked at each of them, eyes steady. "If it means saving the world… I'm ready."
He placed his hands on the altar. Instantly, a surge of raw energy exploded through the room, throwing the others back. His body rose into the air, suspended, as ancient glyphs ignited around the chamber in red and violet fire. The Demon Seed screamed—an unholy, gut-wrenching howl that echoed across realms. Nkosana's veins glowed, his skin cracking with light. Visions flooded his mind: the child he once was, the horrors he had endured, the friendships forged in blood, and the futures he would never see.
The Veil shrieked, desperate. Tendrils of dark energy lunged at him, trying to stop the severance. But Nkosana, anchored by will and sacrifice, held firm.
"Break," he whispered.
And the mark did.
The room went still.
Nkosana collapsed, his body smoking, unconscious. The altar shattered, the glyphs fading.
Silence.
Kaede rushed to him, checking his pulse. "He's alive," he said breathlessly. "But something's changed…"
Matsu nodded gravely. "The Veil is wounded… but not destroyed. The battle is not over."
In the far corners of the world, shadows stirred—angry, restless, and vengeful.
The price had been paid.
But the war had only just begun.
—