The sky was whole again.
No cracks. No Rift. Just sunlight spilling over Nova City like it had always belonged there. The chaos was over—or at least, that's what people told themselves. Life moved forward. Rebuilding began. News stations praised the unknown hero who had saved the world. But none of them truly understood what had been lost.
Reyka did.
She stood at the edge of the same rooftop where it all ended, staring out over the city. Her fingers curled around the smooth, worn edges of Jalen's pendant. It still radiated faint heat, like a match that had burned its last flame but hadn't forgotten the fire.
Ari stood beside her, arms crossed, her usually unshakable expression unreadable. She had refused every interview, turned down every government meeting. She didn't want medals or titles. She wanted her friend back.
"I thought it would feel different," Reyka said after a long silence. "Winning."
Ari didn't answer for a while. Then: "Maybe we didn't win. Maybe we just… survived."
Reyka nodded slowly.
But then—movement.
A faint flicker in the skyline. A pulse.
Reyka froze.
There, for just a breath of a moment, the clouds twisted. The sunlight bent. And a figure stood at the farthest rooftop, cloaked in firelight, watching them.
No face. No sound.
But the presence was unmistakable.
Jalen.
Before either of them could speak, he vanished—like he had never been there. But Reyka didn't doubt it for a second. She smiled.
"He's out there."
Ari turned to her. "You think he's coming back?"
"No," Reyka said, slipping the pendant back into her coat. "I think he never left."
Above them, the wind shifted.
And somewhere, far beyond the reach of Nova City's lights, in the deep silence between worlds... a spark reignited.
Because legends don't die.
They evolve.