The confrontation spread beyond the bastion.
As Aurelian activated the corrupted wards, Valoria's defenses turned inward in controlled pockets, sowing confusion without mass harm.
Calculated.
Deliberate.
"Containment teams, now!" Rowan shouted across the command hall.
Alisha closed her eyes.
She did not reach for fear.
She reached for clarity.
The Eclipse Path responded—not surging, but aligning.
She saw the system—every node, every permission layer, every point where trust had been extended and exploited.
Aurelian watched her with something close to awe.
"You're rewriting governance itself," he said. "You could end dissent forever."
"I could," Alisha agreed.
"And you won't."
"No."
She stepped forward.
"You misunderstood mercy," she said. "It was never permission."
She raised her hand.
The wards froze.
Not locked.
Paused.
Aurelian gasped as his access vanished—not stripped away, but rendered irrelevant.
"You gave people room to choose," he snarled. "And I chose truth."
"You chose control," Alisha replied. "There's a difference."
She rewove the permissions—publicly, visibly.
From that moment on, shared authority required accountability from both sides. No single house could weaponize trust again.
The system adapted.
The Eclipse stabilized.
Aurelian fell to his knees—not broken, but defeated.
"You'll be remembered," he said bitterly. "As the ruler who taught the world how to disobey."
Alisha's voice was steady.
"Then I'll also be remembered as the one who survived it."