The first thing I notice is the quiet.
Not silence. Silence would feel earned. This is the kind of quiet that creeps in when something dangerous decides it's done making noise. The pressure that had been crushing the air around me just… isn't there anymore. No hum. No weight pressing down on my chest. Just wind slipping through shattered stone and the faint crackle of things still settling after violence.
I blink once. Then again.
The Dracus is gone.
That realization takes longer than it should. My mind keeps waiting for it to return, for that presence to slam back into me like it has every other time, but it doesn't. The space it left behind feels wrong. Empty in a way that makes my skin crawl.
I'm still standing.
That surprises me more than anything else.
My body is screaming, but not in sharp pain. Not yet. It's a deep, spreading ache, the kind that feels like my bones are tired of pretending they're still aligned. Everything inside me feels loose, barely held together by whatever stubborn force has been keeping me upright.
I breathe in.
It hurts.
I breathe out.
That hurts too.
My legs start to shake, small at first, like they're testing me, seeing if I'm paying attention. I try to shift my weight, just a little, and the ground lurches beneath me. Or maybe that's just me.
"Matte," Scarlett snaps, sharp and close. "Hey. Don't you dare."
I turn my head toward her. That takes more effort than it should. She's right there, eyes locked on me, blood smeared along her arm, jaw set tight like she's ready to fight the world itself if it gives her an excuse.
"I'm fine," I say.
It comes out wrong. Thick. Slurred.
That's… not great.
Violet appears on my other side, her hand clamping onto my arm like she's afraid I'll vanish if she lets go. Her eyes are darting all over me, taking inventory, cataloging every bruise and tear she can see.
"You're swaying," she says. "That's not 'fine.'"
"I sway sometimes," I mutter. "It's… part of my charm."
Scarlett lets out a sharp, humorless laugh. "You almost got us killed and you're flirting with gravity."
"Gravity started it," I say. "I'm just finishing the argument."
Violet squeezes my arm harder. "Matte."
I feel it then. The exact moment my body decides it's done listening to me. The strength I've been forcing through myself slips, not all at once, just enough to remind me who's actually in charge here.
My knees buckle.
Scarlett swears and lunges forward, hauling my arm over her shoulder before I can faceplant. "Idiot," she growls, straining under my weight. "You absolute, unbelievable idiot."
I can't help it. I grin, even as my vision starts to blur. "Missed you too."
Violet rushes in on my other side, panic bleeding through the calm she's been holding together by sheer will. "You're bleeding," she says, her voice tight. "You're bleeding a lot."
I glance down, like that's going to help. Everything below my chest feels distant. "I'm always bleeding," I say. "It's kind of my thing."
"That's not funny," Violet snaps.
"It's a little funny," Scarlett mutters.
That's when Celeste steps into view.
She doesn't rush. She doesn't shout. She just looks at me, eyes steady, calm in a way that feels almost unreal compared to everything else. Like she's already decided how this ends and my opinion isn't part of the equation.
"Enough," she says softly.
The word cuts through everything.
My breathing stutters. The tension in my shoulders loosens without my permission. It's like my body recognizes her voice and decides it's finally allowed to stop pretending.
I try to straighten up anyway. Pride dies hard.
Bad idea.
The world tilts violently. Scarlett curses as my full weight drops onto her. Violet yelps as she scrambles to keep me from collapsing completely. For a moment we're all tangled together, boots slipping on debris, breath coming fast and uneven.
"Seriously?" Scarlett snaps. "Now you decide to sleep?"
"I'm still standing," I mumble. "Technically."
"You're hanging," Violet says. "That's not the same thing."
Celeste's hand appears at the back of my neck, firm and warm. Grounding. Her other hand presses against my shoulder, steadying me.
"You're done," she says quietly. "You don't get to push anymore."
I want to argue. I want to tell her I'm fine, that I've been worse, that I can keep going like I always do.
But the truth is heavy and undeniable.
I can't.
My vision darkens at the edges, like someone's slowly pulling a curtain closed. Sounds stretch and warp. Scarlett's voice turns into a distant echo, Violet's into something thin and fragile.
"Easy," Celeste murmurs, closer now. "Just breathe."
"I am breathing," I say, though I'm not entirely sure that's true.
Scarlett shifts my arm higher over her shoulder. "You weigh more than you look," she mutters.
"That's the muscle," I say weakly.
"Shut up," Violet says. Then, softer, "Please."
They start moving me.
I don't remember deciding to walk, but suddenly my feet are dragging across the ground, each step a blur. The world swims in and out of focus. I catch flashes of broken stone, scorched earth, the place where the Dracus stood now nothing but empty space.
I don't understand why it left.
The thought floats through my mind, lazy and unfocused. No answers follow it. My brain doesn't chase it. It just drifts past and disappears.
"Stay with us," Scarlett says. "Hey. Eyes open."
"I am," I mumble.
I'm not.
Celeste leans closer, her voice steady, calm in a way that makes it hard not to listen. "You can sleep soon," she says. "Not yet. Just a little longer."
I try. I really do. But my body is already checking out, systems shutting down one by one.
"Did we… win?" I ask, the question barely forming.
Scarlett snorts. "You're alive. Let's call it a draw."
"Figures," I say.
Violet laughs, a short, shaky sound. "You're impossible."
"That's what they tell me."
My legs give out again.
This time, they don't catch me upright. Scarlett and Violet lower me as best they can, my knees hitting the ground hard enough to send a spike of pain through me. I barely feel it.
Celeste crouches in front of me, her hands on my shoulders, her face filling my narrowing vision.
"Matte," she says. "Look at me."
I try. Her face blurs, doubles, then steadies.
"You did enough," she says. "You hear me? You did more than enough."
I want to say something clever. Something reassuring. Something that proves I'm still here.
What comes out instead is a weak breath and a crooked smile.
"Still didn't hit the ground," I whisper.
Celeste's lips curve, just slightly. "Show-off."
The quiet rolls in then, soft and heavy, wrapping around me before I can fight it.
The last thing I feel is her hand steady at my neck, Scarlett's grip refusing to let go, Violet's voice somewhere close, and the certainty that for once, I don't have to hold myself together.
The dark takes me before I fall.