Tristan slept in fits.
Even with Samuel's arm around him—an anchor of void-touched comfort—his body reacted to every pulse of cursed energy still crawling beneath his skin. His breaths came ragged against Samuel's collarbone, and every now and then his hand would twitch as if he were still fighting Femi in that cosmic wasteland.
Samuel didn't sleep.
Void pulsed low and steady inside him, like a distant storm waiting to be unleashed. His mind replayed the battle, the moment Tristan fell, the way Femi smiled with ease while tearing through the balance of everything Samuel thought he understood.
A soft glow shimmered at the edges of the room. Velyd's illusions.
She stood guard outside the door, maintaining the barrier that kept the world out…and kept their problems trapped in.
The Five had transformed Samuel's Abuja apartment into something unrecognizable—hidden deep beneath layers of illusion, dimensional folding, and the solemn fear of what came next. A safehouse suspended between realms. No human could perceive it. No being could find it, unless invited.
Yet Samuel's heart whispered: Not safe enough.
Tristan groaned and shifted, his head brushing Samuel's chin.
Samuel instantly steadied him.
"Easy," he murmured.
His voice, usually sonorous and confident, was tight—strained by days of watching the strongest person he knew fall apart. Tristan's skin carried cracks of dull violet where Femi's curse poisoned his elemental veins.
Tristan blinked his eyes open—brown and fierce even in pain.
"You're staring again," he mumbled.
"You're dying," Samuel replied, blunt, because truth was all he had left.
Tristan gave that tiny, cocky smirk—the one Samuel both hated and loved.
"Not today."
But when he shifted to sit upright, agony twisted through him.
Samuel caught him before he could drop.
"Don't—" Samuel's void surged instinctively, reacting to Tristan's suffering.
Tristan's fingers reached weakly to Samuel's wrist.
That touch alone seemed to silence the storm.
"Sam." A warning and comfort at once. "Remember what we agreed on."
Samuel swallowed hard. "That I wouldn't burn half the universe just to keep you breathing."
"And?"
"And that saving you doesn't give me the right to end everything else."
Tristan nodded. "There it is."
Samuel looked away, jaw tight. The void didn't like restraint. It clawed inside his chest, wanting release. Wanting destruction. Wanting revenge.
Tristan's voice softened. "We need Eldoria. My people know how to handle cosmic curses. If I stay, I won't hold on much longer."
Samuel clenched his fist. "We don't know if your realm will help us. Not with how they see me."
"That's my fight," Tristan rasped. "Not yours."
But Samuel refused that. He always refused that.
⸻
The sound of footsteps echoed—then Daniel burst into the room with all the delicacy of a falling star.
"You two alive?" he asked, wide-eyed. "Because breakfast burned. And by breakfast, I mean Ignara tried to fry eggs and accidentally ignited the stove with hellfire again."
"We need a new kitchen," Samuel muttered.
"We need new floors. And ceilings. And probably a new building." Daniel's eyes flicked to Tristan, worry immediately replacing humor. "How bad is it today?"
"Bad," Samuel answered.
Tristan rolled his eyes. "Present. Capable of speaking."
Daniel ignored the protest and crouched beside him. "I can try the pulse again. Maybe stabilize what's happening inside—"
"No." Tristan coughed, pushing Daniel away with surprising strength. "You're not trained. And if something goes wrong, the curse might spread to you."
Daniel looked insulted. "I'm not that fragile."
"Actually you are," Samuel said flatly.
Daniel threw his hands up. "Love the confidence, really."
Samuel sighed. "You're new to this, Daniel. We can't risk losing you too."
The joke in Daniel's expression faded completely.
That fear in his eyes—fear of failing his friends—hurt Samuel more than he expected.
He placed a hand on Daniel's shoulder. "You're essential. We will need your power when the time comes."
Daniel swallowed. A moment of silent understanding passed between them.
Then the air shifted—cold and warning.
The Oracle of Dust materialized in the doorway—Rashid, his cloak swirling like desert sand caught in a vortex. His eyes glimmered with ancient knowledge…and concern.
"We are out of time," he said.
Samuel stood sharply. "What's happened?"
Rashid's voice echoed with prophecy:
"The escalation worsens. Stars are flickering. Borders between realms thinning. And worse—Femi's lies spread faster than truth."
Tristan exhaled through gritted teeth. "Of course he's twisting the narrative."
"He's convincing the galaxy's leaders that you, Samuel Herindor, have destabilized existence," Rashid continued. "He claims you thirst for domination—like your divine brother before you."
Samuel's jaw locked. "Kairo sought domination. I seek balance. They should know the difference."
"But fear listens more eagerly to lies," Rashid murmured.
Samuel paced, void energy rippling faintly through the room. Walls groaned under the pressure.
Tristan forced himself upright. "We go to Eldoria. That's step one. Fix me. Then take the fight back to Femi."
Daniel nodded. "And I'll—what? Train? Pretend I know what I'm doing?"
"You'll learn," Samuel said. There was conviction there—unshakable.
The Five entered then—Ignara, Zephira, Nysara, Velyd—each bearing signs of exhaustion, but still loyal, still present.
Ignara flicked stray sparks from her fingertips.
"So. Road trip to Eldoria?"
Zephira folded her arms. "Eldoria hates outsiders."
"Especially cosmic ones," Nysara added softly.
Velyd's gaze lingered on Samuel. "Expect hostility. Maybe condemnation."
Samuel met their eyes one by one.
He didn't need their reassurance—he needed their resolve.
"If they want to judge me," he said darkly, "let them witness what I endure to protect what they fear."
Even Velyd felt the pulse of power in that moment.
Rashid's voice cut through the tension:
"If you are to survive what comes, you must remain united. Betrayal is the only path that guarantees destruction."
Samuel's gaze drifted briefly—too briefly—to each of the Five.
One of them would break.
Not today.
Not yet.
But the future whispered of shattered trust.
And then—space itself screamed.
A projection burst into existence—Lady Virelith of the Astral Council. Her face was a mask of elegance and contempt.
"Samuel Herindor," she announced coldly, "your tyranny is over. The Council of Realms demands your surrender for crimes against creation."
Samuel stepped forward. Unflinching.
Void roared silently behind his eyes.
"I protect creation," he replied.
"By breaking it?" she spat.
Tristan tried to stand—Samuel steadied him instantly.
Lady Virelith's gaze sharpened.
"So…the corrupted earth warlock still clings to you," she said. "Pathetic."
Tristan's hands curled into fists, energy sputtering violently.
He nearly collapsed—Samuel held him upright.
"My patience is measured in stars," Samuel warned, voice low and lethal. "Try not to burn in the counting."
Virelith's illusion flickered—momentarily shaken.
"You have three days," she hissed. "Surrender…or face annihilation."
The projection shattered into stardust. Silence followed.
Daniel spoke first.
"Great. So now the entire universe wants us dead."
"No," Tristan corrected softly, breathing hard.
"They want him dead."
Samuel didn't argue. He simply looked at Tristan—really looked.
"You shouldn't have to fight again until you're healed," he murmured.
Tristan frowned at him, stubborn even while barely standing.
"Don't protect me from the war, Samuel," he whispered.
"Protect me with you."
Void and earth. Balance and stability. Two forces made to hold each other up.
Samuel felt something dangerous spark in his chest—something warmer than cosmic power.
He carefully eased Tristan back down.
"We leave for Eldoria before dusk."
Rashid nodded approvingly.
The Five dispersed to prepare.
Daniel lingered at the doorway. "Sam?"
Samuel looked up.
"What if Eldoria refuses to help?" Daniel asked quietly.
Samuel's voice was cold fire.
"Then I will make them."
Daniel nodded once, and left.
Now alone beside Tristan, Samuel brushed his knuckles gently against Tristan's cheek—barely a touch, a risk of a confession.
Tristan didn't open his eyes, but he spoke:
"You're brooding again."
Samuel closed his eyes as well.
"I can't lose you," he said.
"You won't," Tristan breathed.
But fate—cosmic, cruel, and already shifting—had other plans.
And far across the cosmos, beneath a citadel of shadow, Femi laughed.
⸻
⸻