Elara sat on the ridge overlooking what was once the Lattice. The ground still smoked, fissures glowing faintly from residual energy. She clutched a broken pendant in her hand, a family heirloom Astra had worn since the first skirmish. The silence around her was deafening.
Damien approached quietly, sitting beside her. "She would have wanted us to keep moving."
Elara didn't respond. Her gaze remained on the scorched earth. "She died for something we're not even sure will hold."
"It will," Damien said firmly. "The Core's gone. The AI thread is fractured. Mairee's influence can't sustain itself now."
"But the fractures in us remain," Elara murmured. "My sister hasn't spoken to me since I made the pact with you. My mother—"
Damien looked away. "still calls me a traitor. I know."
She turned to him, her voice quiet but sharp. "You were my enemy. I married you because I had no choice."
He nodded. "And yet... here we are. Fighting the same war. Losing the same people."
