His voice through the link: "Fighting retreat! Wounded first?—"
Still alive.
Golden light erupted across the chamber.
Caelum materialized at the center.
Light blazed around him like a dying sun. His mouth twisted. His hands shook at his sides. Every trace of the compassionate mask had cracked away, leaving something raw underneath—something that had been hiding.
"You closed it." The words came out broken, incredulous. "You actually?—"
He looked at the sealed gateway. The restored ward-stones glowing blue-white. Centuries of his work undone.
His masterpiece. Burned to nothing.
When his eyes found her, they were empty of everything except one thing.
She'd seen rage before, had survived his torture, endured his attempts to break her.
This wasn't rage.
This was a god denied his heaven. And she was the one who'd taken it from him.
Some things couldn't be forgiven. Some things demanded blood.
She had just enough time to think: He's going to kill me himself.
Then Caelum moved.
LXXVII.
DANTE
The gateway sealed with a pulse of magic that Dante felt through every shadow in the chamber.
Brynn had done it.
Through the death-link, he felt her exhaustion. Bone-deep. Her triumph was fierce even as pain wracked her body.
She was alive. She'd succeeded.
But the battle was still raging.
Shells poured through all three entrances. Hundreds of them, maybe thousands, momentum carrying them forward even though their purpose was gone. His death-knights were breaking under the pressure. A hundred and eighteen casualties now, death-pulses hitting the network in rapid succession.
"Fighting retreat!" His command cracked through the death-link. "Death-knights, fall back by sections! Shadow-guards, cover the ward-keepers! Everyone through the service passage. NOW!"
His forces responded instantly. Death-knights fell back in coordinated groups, shields locked. Shadow-guards formed a rear guard, weapons flashing.
Updates pulsed from other fronts:
Seraphina, fury bleeding into exhaustion: "Gateway's sealed. Withdrawing. Lost over six hundred, but we held them."
Six hundred. Six hundred souls who'd followed her and wouldn't come home.
Vex, manic energy settling: "Harvesting stopped. Pulling out."
Thessa voice came through, sorrow, and satisfaction mixed: "Extraction complete. So many saved. So many we couldn't reach."
