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“I know,” she responded.

“I mean it, Elowynn.”

She smiled sadly at him before leaning closer, her side pressing to his. “So do I.”

The argument ended there because there was no winning a thing like this. There was only the truth that had existed between them since childhood, laid bare now by fear and blood and the absence of stars.

He’d try to stand between her and darkness. She’d refuse to let him do it alone.

Alyra looked toward the engineer. “If we go down, can you guide us?”

The engineer stared at her as though she had asked him to walk willingly into the Dimming Lands.

“W-what? No!” he sputtered.

Alyra clenched her jaw; she looked like she was ready to hit him.

“I c-can get you to the old service junction,” he added quickly. “After that, the maps become useless. Uh, too many collapses and too many sealed chambers. Honestly, there are too many things no one even documented down there.”

Korvel nodded. “Then that’s where we start.”

The shelter erupted at once. Survivors whispered to one another, fear spreading through the room as people understood the shape of the decision forming before them. Some wanted to remain, and some wanted to try the sealed route again. One woman began insisting they could break through the collapse if enough people helped. Another asked whether the Vigil would protect them if they waited long enough.

Elowynn listened to all of it and felt sadness stir beneath her anger.

These people didn't deserve this; none of them did. But deserving had never been enough to save anyone.

She looked over to Lora, who stood with one hand clasped in Alyra’s. Her eyes were wide and lined in shadows from exhaustion. Lora met her gaze and swallowed hard. Then, because she was Lora: “I would like to formally state that I hate this plan,” she said, sniffing.

Alyra exhaled through her nose. “Noted.”

“I also see no better plan,” Lora added.

“Also noted.” Alyra turned toward Lora and pressed a kiss to her temple.

Elowynn wondered if this was what love looked like when the world was ending—not grand declarations, but the quiet certainty that one person was enough to keep standing.

She turned back to Caelyn. He was watching her with an intensity that made the rest of the room seem to disappear.

“Can you walk?” she asked.

His mouth pulled up at one corner. “You will not like the answer.”

Elowynn gave him a withering look before he leaned close to her, bumping his nose affectionately against her own. “I can walk.”

Her fingers clutched onto his hand. “But for how long?” she asked, her voice cracking.

A sigh escaped him, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. He didn't need to answer. She closed her eyes, forcing herself to breathe through the surge of fear. When she opened them again, his expression had grown gentle.

“We will go slowly,” she said.

Korvel glanced toward the tunnel. “We may not have that luxury.”

Elowynn didn't look away from Caelyn. “Then we will go as slowly as our survival allows.”

Something silent passed between them. It was akin to an agreement, perhaps, or the closest thing to one they could manage while standing at the edge of whatever waited beneath Veylspire.

The shelter began to move around them.