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I press a hand to my chest, steadying my breath. Visidion’s wing brushes against my back—a silent, grounding touch. Doubts fall away like dust in the wind.

“We’ll send scouting parties first,” I say, voice steady. “Clear it. Map it. Prepare it.”

“Our people deserve more than survival. They deserve a future,” Visidion says, rumbling his agreement.

Shidan smiles, a rare, quiet thing, and straightens.

“Then it will be yours. All of it.”

We stand together, three figures against the vastness of Tajss, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I believe. Not only in survival. Not only in making it to tomorrow. Inbuildingsomething. A true future, carved from the ashes of everything we lost.

A new city. A new beginning. For humans. For Zmaj. For Urr’ki.

For all of us who dared to dream.

I look over the endless red sands and imagine it laughter ringing through ancient streets. Children playing in shaded courtyards. Lovers whispering under the twin suns.

And I know—we’re not just surviving anymore.

We’re coming home.

The blood of Tajss runs through us now—fierce, defiant.

When the stars come to claim her, they’ll find her heart still beating. Still burning.

I take Visidion’s hand in mine, leaning into his strength. Strength we will need, but for now, this is enough.

As Visidion has said so many times.

Tajss provides.

THE END