Light gathered in his hands. Concentrated. Building. Every soul he'd ever harvested. Every bit of stolen essence. All of it poured into one attack.
"If I can't have my paradise—" His voice dropped to something cold and final. "—neither shall you have your architect."
Dante's head snapped back. Saw the attack forming. Saw where it was aimed.
"NO!"
He shadow-stepped, trying to intercept?—
Too slow. One second too slow.
The light exploded across the chamber.
Time seemed to slow. Every detail clear. The way the light moved through the air was like liquid fire. The way Brynn's eyes widened in that final moment. The way her lips formed his name.
The blast hit her directly in the chest.
She made a sound—half gasp, half scream, his name torn from her throat. A sound that would echo in his nightmares for eternity.
"Dante—"
Her body arced backward. The circlet blazed one final time, ward-symbols flaring bright enough to sear the eyes. Her ancestors' work trying desperately to protect her.
Then went dark.
Blood erupted from her nose. Her mouth. Her eyes. The impact lifted her off her feet like she weighed nothing.
She hit the ground hard, stone cracking beneath her.
Didn't move.
Didn't breathe.
The world stopped.
Everything. The battle raging around them. The retreat. The shells still pouring through entrances. The death-link carrying thousands of souls. All of it ceased to exist in that moment.
There was only Brynn.
Lying on blood-stained stone.
Still. So impossibly still.
His heart forgot how to beat. His lungs forgot how to breathe. His legs forgot how to hold him upright.
He reached for her presence through the shadows wrapped around her waist. That connection he'd felt since his power had first touched her. The awareness of her had become as natural as breathing.
It was there.
But fading. Fragmenting. Scattering like smoke in the wind.
"Brynn." Her name came out raw. "Brynn, no. Please?—"
He took one step toward her.
Caelum moved between them, light still blazing, features twisted into something vicious and triumphant.
"Look at her. Dying. Your precious mortal couldn't survive what I can create. She was always too weak. Too fragile?—"
