The top floor was no longer a floor.
It was a wound.
White fire and black shadow tore at each other in a storm that had forgotten how to end.
—FWRRROOOOM—!
The Burning Library collapsed into rivers of molten pages.
The throne of Nephis's bones shattered into a crown of broken halos, orbiting her like dying planets.
Nephis stood at the center.
Four flames burned in her chest—
her corrupted dawn,
Ash's willing ember,
the stolen star,
and now Sunny's surrendered shadow-fire.
Her wings were no longer wings.
They were solar flares, peeling reality open.
Her eyes were twin suns on the verge of going nova.
She looked at Sunny—empty, kneeling, terribly human—and her expression cracked with something too raw to be called sorrow.
Then reality tore.
—SHRRRIIIIP…!
A vertical slash of silver light split the storm from horizon to horizon.
And through it stepped the young man.
He did not come gently.
The full authority of the throne radiated off him like gravity made flesh—stars orbiting his shoulders, galaxies swirling beneath his boots, the quiet garden of the void clinging to his coat like frost.
His hair: black streaked in silver.
His eyes: molten silver ringed in gold.
His coat—once Sunny's, now his—was pristine, edges flickering with the light of every soul Sunny had ever saved.
He stepped onto the broken floor—
—THOOM.
The storm halted.
Just for a single, trembling heartbeat.
He looked at Nephis.
Then at Sunny on his knees.
His voice cracked across the void like a god handing down judgment.
"You promised me a world without cages."
The words hit harder than any blow Nephis had thrown.
Sunny lifted his head.
The young man's fists were clenched so tight that starlight bled between his fingers.
"You sat on that throne for four hundred years," he said, voice trembling with fury, grief, and something worse.
"You raised me. You taught me mercy. You taught me laughter. You taught me cages exist only so someone can break them."
He stepped forward.
CRACK—!
The floor split beneath his heel.
"And the moment it got hard…
you crawled back into the oldest cage of all."
He pointed at Nephis without looking at her.
"Her fire."
Nephis's wings flared—
not with attack,
but with instinctive, ancient possession.
The young man finally looked at her.
His eyes were ancient.
Older than the Spire.
Older than the suns burning inside her.
"You don't get to have him," he said softly.
"Not after everything."
Then he turned back to Sunny.
"Stand."
Sunny rose.
Slowly.
Painfully.
Human in a place that no longer remembered the meaning of the word.
The young man stepped forward until they were an arm's length apart.
He grabbed Sunny's shoulder—so hard it would bruise.
His voice dropped.
"I kept your throne warm."
"I kept your world alive."
"I forgave every sin you were too much of a coward to forgive yourself for."
His grip tightened.
"And you were going to let her burn it all."
Sunny stared into those molten eyes.
"I was going to end it," he whispered.
"By dying?"
"By letting her win."
The young man's face twisted.
Then he pulled Sunny into a crushing embrace.
His voice cracked against Sunny's ear.
"You stupid, stubborn, impossible bastard."
Sunny's arms rose—slow, trembling—and wrapped around the young man's back.
They held each other in the heart of the storm.
Nephis watched.
Her wings dimmed.
Her solar flares softened.
Her expression folded in on itself.
The young man pulled back.
He looked at her.
His voice was steel wrapped in starlight.
"He's not yours to burn."
Then he stepped to Sunny's side.
Shoulder to shoulder.
For the first time,
they stood together.
Nephis looked at them both.
At the man she had waited four centuries to see again.
At the child he had raised and loved into something greater than either of them.
Her smile bloomed.
Small.
Sad.
Proud.
"Then come," she said.
She spread her wings.
—FWOOOOOOOM—!
The storm answered.
White fire roared.
Light bled from the sky.
The young man's coat ignited into wings of living starlight.
Sunny stood between them—
empty of flame,
empty of shadow,
only human.
Only will.
The top floor cracked wide open.
Reality buckled.
The final war began.
Not of fire against shadow.
Not of corruption against redemption.
But of love against love.
And the Spire screamed as the three of them collided—
—KRAAAAAAAASH—!