The Shadow King did not strike the city.
He struck Alisha's certainty.
The message came through Caelan.
Not possession.Not coercion.
Truth.
"He showed me something," Caelan said quietly, standing beneath the west tower arch as dawn broke. "A possible future."
Alisha stiffened. "A lie."
"No," Caelan replied. "A probability."
He described it carefully—Valoria intact, the wards perfect, the world stable.
And Alisha alone.
Not dead.
Not corrupted.
Isolated.
"She holds everything together," the Shadow King's voice had whispered through the vision. "At the cost of everything that makes her human."
Alisha felt something fracture inside her.
"Why show you this?" she asked.
Caelan met her gaze. "Because it made me hesitate."
That was the real wound.
Not betrayal.
Doubt.
The Eclipse flared—not violently, but defensively.
Alisha stepped back.
"Thank you for telling me," she said.
"You're not angry?" Caelan asked.
"I would be lying if I said no," she replied honestly. "But anger won't change what he did."
She turned toward the rising sun.
"This is the war now," she said. "Not power against power."
"Then what?" Caelan asked.
Alisha closed her eyes.
"Connection against isolation."
The Eclipse steadied.
The moon dimmed slightly.
And far away, the Shadow King watched with sharp interest.
Because Alisha had finally reached the point every true ruler faced:
Where strength was no longer enough.
And the next choice—
would cost her something she could never reclaim.