The silver light in Ethan's hand flickered.
It wasn't strong. It wasn't loud.
But it was his.
The creature moved first, its body stretching like living shadow. The air around it twisted, making it hard to breathe.
"Stay back!" Ethan shouted.
The survivors pulled away, fear written on their faces.
Ethan stepped forward, heart pounding. Without fate guiding him, every move felt uncertain. His power responded slowly, like it was learning him for the first time.
The creature struck.
Ethan raised his arm, and the silver light spread into a thin shield. The impact sent him sliding backward, boots cutting lines in the dirt.
Pain shot through his body.
"You don't have destiny anymore!" the creature hissed.
Ethan pushed himself up. "I don't need it."
He focused—not on power, but on purpose.
Protect.
The silver light grew brighter, warmer. It wasn't forcing the world to obey—it was asking.
Lyria ran to his side, chanting softly. Her magic wrapped around Ethan's, steadying it.
Together, they pushed forward.
The creature recoiled, shadows tearing apart.
It screamed—not in anger, but in surprise.
This power… is different.
With a final pulse of light, the creature dissolved into smoke and vanished into the night.
Silence returned.
Ethan collapsed to his knees, breathing hard.
Lyria held him. "You did it."
Ethan looked at his trembling hands.
"This is just the beginning," he said.
Because now, he had to learn how to fight—without destiny.