The world narrowed to the space between Vorlak's outstretched hands and the contained Core. The demonic seals swirled around the sphere of darkness, etching themselves onto its surface with a sound like a mountain grinding to dust.
Vorlak's body trembled violently, his crimson skin paling as he channeled not just his magic, but his very life force into the seals. "This is the true burden of power," Vorlak gasped, his voice strained.
"Not to dominate, but to sacrifice!" Valerius, recovering from the backlash, saw his dream unraveling.
"No! The power is mine! Kill the demon! Break his concentration!" His remaining mages redirected their attacks.
Bolts of destructive magic and lances of hardened light shot towards Vorlak. But they never reached him.
Lyra was a whirlwind of motion, her arrows intercepting spells mid-air, creating small, precise explosions of null-magic.
When one got through, she threw herself in front of it, a shield of elven wood and sheer determination taking the blast.
She was thrown back, smoking but alive, buying Vorlak precious seconds. Inside the ritual, Haruto and Kaito were at their absolute limit.
Haruto felt the abyss within the Core calling to the abyss in his own soul, a siren song of utter oblivion.
It promised an end to the struggle, infinite power, a release from the pain. He saw visions of himself as a dark king, ruling over a silent world with Lyra at his side.
"No," he whispered, not with his voice, but with his will. He thought of Lyra's smile, of the trust in the eyes of his comrades, of the future he wanted to build.
He anchored himself not in the light, which was Kaito's domain, but in the connections that gave his shadows purpose. His barrier held. Kaito faced a different trial.
His light, the essence of purification, wanted to scour away everything—the Core, the shadows, the demon, all of it. It screamed at him that compromise was corruption, that to work with these forces was to become tainted.
He saw a vision of a world scoured clean by his light, pure, orderly, and utterly lifeless.
He saw Haruto, not as a rival or a shadow-spawn, but as a boy desperately holding the line. He saw Vorlak, a creature of the abyss, sacrificing everything for a chance at redemption.
And he understood. Purity was not the absence of darkness; it was the balance achieved through will and choice.
His light softened, not in strength, but in intent, becoming a partner to the shadow, not its enemy.
The Core, fully bound by Vorlak's seals, gave one final, convulsive shudder. Then, it imploded.
Not with an explosion, but with an immense, silent inhalation of all energy, light, and sound.
The violet maelstrom collapsed in on itself, condensing into a tiny, perfectly black, inert sphere that fell with a soft clink to the cavern floor. The silence that followed was absolute.
Vorlak stood for a moment, a faint smile on his face. Then, his body began to dissolve into motes of violet light. "The debt is paid," he whispered, his form scattering to the winds. "The future... is yours to write." The great demon was gone, his sacrifice having sealed the heart of the abyss.