Ash still floated in the air like sorrow given form, settling on the ruins of the Garden of Sin. The earth trembled faintly beneath Selena's boots, not from an earthquake—but from the echo of something monstrous that had fled.
The True Beast was not dead.
It had retreated, yes—wounded, angered—but not destroyed. Its departure was not mercy. It was a promise. One that clung to the bones of the land and echoed in the hollow wind like a predator's breath.
Selena exhaled shakily, her fingers still entwined with Dante's. They had survived… but the price for their defiance was still unknown. Her body ached with the divine strain of invoking the Blood Oath. Her heart was heavy with the knowledge that nothing would ever be the same.
Behind them, the altar they'd shattered pulsed once, a final beat, then crumbled into obsidian dust. Their sigils had fused—two souls against heaven's decree. It was beautiful. It was blasphemy.
And it had changed everything.
