The First was a towering figure, taller than any building nearby, its form constantly shifting like liquid glass. Its eyes were millions of tiny shards, reflecting every memory Liora had tried to forget.
"You've grown," it rumbled, a voice that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. "Too long have you hidden. Too long have you run."
Liora swallowed, but she did not back down. The whisper guided her: You are the key. Face it.
"I'm not running," she said. "Not anymore."
The First lunged, melting the air around it as it moved. Liora's vision fractured into pieces. Memories of her past, the stolen cube, the hidden room, the sealed Sight — all converged into a single, burning clarity.
She extended her Sight fully, reaching into the First's form. She felt its hunger, its pain, its origin as something broken, discarded, and twisted. And then, instead of striking, she let it see her own strength, her courage, her control.
The First recoiled, confused by her defiance. Liora pressed further, showing it the memories of light, warmth, and connection it had never known. The towering shadow trembled.
Kael shouted from the edge of the battlefield: "Hold! Don't let it consume your focus!"
Liora's hands glowed with shards of light. "I remember everything," she said, voice echoing. "And I am not afraid of you!"
The First shrieked, a sound that shattered glass and shook the city. Then, slowly, impossibly, it began to fracture. Pieces of it fell like shattered mirrors, dissolving into harmless light.
The battle was not over, but the First was broken.