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The Gate Watchers were dead. Aneirin’s army had repurposed their camp.

From where he hid in the shadow of one of those towering piles of metal and scrap, Skye could see the Aion Gate rising over the chaotic maze of tents, guards, and arcane wards crackling with dark energy.

That’s where he needed to be. He knew it in his bones.

Breathing deep, Skye focused. His form shimmered, the edges blurring as though dissolving into smoke. A heartbeat later, his body fractured into countless particles, each one vanishing into the shadows like drops of ink in water.

The shadow essence held him together, preventing the pieces from scattering beyond his ability to pull back.

The world looked different in this form. Muted. Light existed in patches, diffuse and distant, while darkness stretched endlessly. Everything else was reduced to faint outlines.

Moving wasn’t walking or running—it was slipping, gliding from one pool of shadow to the next.

If anyone were to look, they might catch a flicker, a cloud of black smoke threading across the spaces between patches of darkness.

Not a shape so much as a suggestion, elusive enough to leave them questioning if they’d seen anything at all.

Guards patrolled the area, but Skye was unseen, unheard.

He could feel Taly’s presence, a faint, lingering echo of the bond.

It called to him. Each step brought him closer, the Aion Gate looming ever larger.

He could feel its pull on his aether, how it made the amorphous haze of his form stretch and distort.

One of the guards shifted. Skye froze, holding his breath.

And then something else slipped out of the shadows behind him.

A black, four-footed something that Skye reached for but failed to pull back.

Calcifer!

Just what he needed—the obnoxious little beast deciding it was part of the rescue team.

The mimic slinked by as a lanky cat, weaving through the legs of the stocky guard with a beard like tangled roots. “Hey there, kitty.” He reached down a hand— “ Ow .”

Calcifer bit him and ran.

“Why you little—”

It was just enough of a distraction for Skye to slip by unnoticed. He made a mental note to thank the little beast.

Finally, he made it through the camp. Skye coalesced from the surrounding shadows, the darkness pooling and thickening until it solidified into flesh. His breath returned first, sharp and ragged, followed by the weight of his body, then the wild drumming of his heart as he looked up.

At the top of a long set of stone stairs that led to its base, Taly stood silhouetted in the brilliance of the Aion Gate. Her gown flowed around her. Her hair whipped in the gusting wind. The crown upon her head gleamed like molten gold, radiant against the flood of light behind her.

“Taly!” His voice was rough, barely carrying over the roar of the Gate and the swirling winds.

She turned slowly, her gaze cool and detached. As if she were seeing him from a great distance.

Her eyes were no longer solely gray. They burned like twin, incandescent suns. He could sense the power rolling off her.

The warm water lapped gently against their bodies, the scent of lavender and steam rising in the air.

Taly’s voice trembled as she finally said it. “The Time Shard… Skye, I… I think she’s chosen me.”

The words dropped like a stone between them.

Skye stilled, keeping his gaze steady on her, watching the uncertainty on her face. He felt a thousand things at once—fear, shock, maybe even a little resentment. Understanding. No wonder she’d seemed so shell-shocked this week.

But none of it showed on his face. That wasn’t what she needed from him right now.

“Chosen, huh?” He dipped the washcloth in the water and continued washing the scars on her back. “Well, I hope the goddess is prepared for all the arguing that’s going to come out.”

Taly’s brow furrowed. “Seriously, that’s all you’re going to say?”

“What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know. Shock? Incredulity?”

“Oh, believe me, I’m both of those things.”

She looked down into the water, her voice softening. “I mean… I’d understand if this was it. The one thing that’s too much. If you wanted to go…” Her gaze flicked up to meet his, uncertainty dimming those steely gray eyes. “You don’t owe me anything, Skye. Not with this. I wouldn’t blame you if—”

Skye cut her off. “Shut up.”

“But.”

“I’m serious, Tink. We’ve been over this. Where you go, I go. I don’t care if you grow horns and start kicking puppies, that’s never going to change.”

Taly’s lips pursed, though he saw a smile tugging. “If I start kicking puppies, you have permission to step in. That’s not okay, even for an all-powerful, all-knowing queen of ages.”

“What if you need to kick a puppy to save the universe?”

“No.”

“Okay, okay, just finding the constraints.”

There was a stillness in her expression, a serenity that belied the tempest raging around them. For a moment, Skye’s heart clenched, a knot of fear tightening in his chest.

Was she still in there? His Taly. His best friend. The woman who had challenged him, infuriated him—who had shown him that home wasn’t just walls or a roof, but a heartbeat, a connection. She was the one who made him believe he could have that.

The goddess’s power radiated from her, blinding and terrifying, and yet… there had to be more. Beneath all of that, buried in the brilliance, she had to still be there.

He needed to know for sure. He’d come too far to stop now.

“We’ve got company!” Eula shouted over the comms as fire and ice rained down from above.

Waves of undead pressed in, their numbers swelling. Inside his suit, Kato gripped the controls tightly as warnings blared and lights flickered from every direction. “I noticed. It’s like they don’t appreciate the fireworks we brought.”

A deep, resonant hum filled the air. It set Kato’s teeth on edge.

He whirled the suit around to see crackling arcs of lightning dancing across the surface of the Aion Gate. The light inside it seemed to be contracting.

“It’s closing!” Eula called out.

That’s when Kato saw her.

Not Taly. Cori .

At least, he thought that was Cori.

Amidst the clash of weapons and the roar of spells, she stood untouched, a calm center in the heart of unfolding chaos.

And she was looking right at him. Also, pointing.

“Go!” Eula shouted. “Do you need her to spell it out?”

It would’ve been nice, actually—a formal set of instructions. But, lacking that, Kato still got the message.

“What about you?” he asked.

A huff of laughter crackled through the comm. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine,” Eula replied as a new sound rolled across the battlefield, low and thunderous.

Kato paused mid-stride. The ground shuddered beneath him, just enough to feel through the suit.

The Aion Gate was too massive, too wide to see beyond, but on his screen, swarming in from the cliffs— “Holy fuck.”

Green dots flared to life, crowding the edges of his display. Too many to count. An entire army, distant but gaining, spilled from the riftway like a rising wave.

“Well, would you look at that,” Kato murmured. “The cavalry’s here. And I think they may have brought the whole damn city.”

“Told you!” Eula crowed gleefully. “Sarina could talk a stone into marching. A few tight-ass nobles never stood a chance.” She backhanded a shade with a runed gauntlet, sending it flying. “Now go!”

Kato didn’t need to be told again. He turned, the suit’s joints grinding, and set off at a sprint.

To the Aion Gate and his brother.

What am I doing?

The thought hit Aimee like a punch. She stumbled out of her retreat.

That was her family back there. Her… friend? The word tasted strange, unfamiliar, but it settled in her chest with a kind of reluctant finality.

Yes. Her friend .

What else was she supposed to call someone that risked everything for her brother?

And what did it say about her that she wasn’t willing to risk everything in return?

Aimee’s chest tightened, shame clawing mercilessly at her throat.

There it was—the ugly truth beneath all the bitterness, the real source of her anger.

It wasn’t because of what Taly had done, what she’d taken.

It was because of who she was. Because Taly was better.

Braver. Because Taly had faced the same fears, the same pain, and refused to falter.

Because standing next to her, Aimee saw herself clearly. She was a coward. She was selfish. She was… unworthy.

The Aion Gate was closing. Aimee could feel it in the air. And Taly was still up there fighting—for Aiden, for her family, for everyone. Somehow, she knew it.

She had to turn around. She had to go with her!

The ground trembled. Then a metallic behemoth went racing by. Each step was a powerful, loping stride that propelled it forward with relentless momentum. The suit’s hydraulics hissed and groaned, and through the visor—

“Hey!” Aimee ran to catch up, arms waving. “Kato, wait up!”

There was a barrier across the stairs.

Skye could see it shimmering like the edge of a ripple frozen midair.

Without thinking, he thrust his hand forward. The moment his fingers brushed the surface, an icy shock shot up his arm— no, worse. Time itself gripped his skin, froze his blood solid, and locked his bones in place.

But he didn’t pull back. Instead, he set his jaw, agony spreading through every nerve, and shoved harder.

“Taly!” he called over the buzzing, deafening hum of the Aion Gate. “Taly, it’s me!”

But there was no recognition. No hint of feeling.

Taly’s hair whipped around her face, her gown billowing like a banner caught in a gale. Her skin shimmered as if kissed by starlight.

From inside the Aion Gate, a vortex of light and shadow exploded outward. When it contracted, Skye felt its pull.

It was closing.

“Taly, please!” he roared and threw himself at the barrier. Pain exploded, slicing through his body. Not just cold, but a terrifying absence of motion, of breath, of life . “No. No, no, no… Taly!”

From the depths of him, he begged, “Don’t leave me behind again!”

For a heartbeat, her eyes softened, and the fierce glow dimmed. The time-frozen wall trembled, just barely.

From the other side of it, he saw her lips move, just a whisper.

“Skye…”

Something shifted.

Like a stone dropped in still water, the wall of time wavered, distorted, and then soundlessly collapsed.

The barrier fell. The pain relented.

Skye took a deep breath. And with deliberate steps, he began to climb.

She was a statue of power, standing tall at the top of the stairs. There was something other about her now—something dangerous that warned him he was approaching not just a woman, but a goddess’s vessel. And gods were not to be trifled with.

The battle below faded, lost behind the pulse of light and the rising wind as he crested the final step.

And stood before her in the light of the Aion Gate.

She looked up at him, radiant and aloof.

“Taly,” he said again, softer this time, a plea and a vow all in one.

Gold veined through her irises, divine essence gleaming in the fractures. She really was a queen standing on the edge of eternity, staring at him with an otherworldly detachment.

She could turn him to dust in a moment, but he didn’t care.

“You shouldn’t have come,” she said, her voice distant, as if she were speaking from a dream.

“Where you go, I go.” He’d remind her as many times as it took.

She was home. Even now, twisted into something terrifying and unfamiliar, she was still Taly. Still the girl he’d cross worlds to find. And no matter how far she fell, no matter how much of herself was lost, his place always had been, and always would be, by her side.

Maybe now, with the power of the Time Shard at her fingertips, she would finally understand. She could see clearly what he already knew: no matter how many times she sent him away, he would always find his way back.

Slowly, she extended a hand.

He didn’t hesitate. He took it, and the full weight of her power slammed into him, reverberating through every nerve, every muscle, every fiber.

“I had to send him away.” Taly’s lip trembled, the glow in her eyes shining like the light of the divine. “Aiden. It was the only way to get rid of Aneirin. They’d become… intertwined.”

“Bill,” Skye corrected, touching her cheek. “Don’t you dare give that bastard the satisfaction.”

Her mouth almost twitched. “I have to go after him. I have to save Aiden.”

The Gate gave another pulse, the edges flickering—the swirling energy beginning to collapse inward.

Skye found her eyes. “So, where are we going?”

She shook her head sadly. “Someplace horrible.”

He gripped her hand tighter, steeling his courage. “Can’t wait.”

Then they stepped forward, hand in hand. Light and color swirled around them as they passed into the weightlessness between worlds.

Skye felt that same familiar sensation of falling. Only she was with him this time. The last thing he saw was her eyes—cracked with gold, bright with resolve—as this world faded.

In a flash of light, they were gone.