"Yeah," I say, gentle. "You’re free. Nobody’s ever chaining you again."
I offer my hand out slow, same as I did with Solnix. "You don’t have to. But there’s a place with us, if you want it."
She stares at my hand a long moment, wings shifting nervous at her sides, void-dark eyes flicking between me and the open sky like she’s already halfway gone in her mind.
"Can I leave," she asks quietly. "Just... fly. Not answer to anyone. Not ever again."
Something in my chest tightens at that, but I don’t push it.
"I’m not trying to keep you," I say. "I just wanted to protect you. That’s all this was." I lower my hand slow. "If flying away is what you need, then go. I won’t stop you."
She still looks wary, shoulders tense, like she’s waiting for the trick, the catch, the chain she can’t see yet. After a second she nods, small, and turns, wings spreading wide to catch the air.
She’s just about to lift off when a voice cuts rough through the smoke behind us.
"I’m not done yet."
Orion, back on his feet, armor cracked and smoking, blood at the corner of his mouth — and still, somehow, grumbling like he’s the one owed something here.
The dragon girl flinches hard at the sound of his voice, wings folding tight, body already curling smaller like she’s trying to disappear into the smoke around us. She takes a step back, ready to bolt.
"Wait," I say, stepping in front of her path, gentle but firm. "Don’t run. Not from him."
She freezes, eyes wide, void-dark and full of old fear.
"If you leave now," I say, "because you’re scared of him — that’s not freedom. That’s just him keeping you on a leash a different way." I hold her gaze steady. "You’re not his puppet anymore. Not his pet. Whatever he did to you, it’s over. He can’t touch you again — not while you decide that for yourself, not while any of us are standing here."
Her hands tremble at her sides, wings still tense, torn between the urge to run and something else starting to surface underneath it.
"I don’t want to be scared anymore," she says, quiet, almost to herself.
"Then don’t be," I say. "Stand your ground. Show him it’s already over."
She hesitates one more second — then her spine straightens, shoulders pulling back, chin lifting despite the tremor still in her hands. She turns to face Orion fully for the first time since the chains broke.
"I’m leaving," she says, voice steadier now, carrying clear across the wreckage. "And you can’t stop me. Not anymore."
Orion sneers, blood still at his mouth, but for the first time there’s nothing behind it — no fleet left standing, no whip worth swinging, nothing but a broken prince kneeling in his own crashed ships.
"You’ll regret this," he spits anyway, weak, grasping at whatever’s left of his pride.
She doesn’t even look back at him again.
Orion throws his head back and screams — raw, furious, desperate — and the air around him ignites, ancient power tearing loose from somewhere deep, older than anything he’s shown so far. Time itself seems to drag, slow and heavy, heat climbing fast, the whole crater starting to glow orange-white with it.
Frostine moves first, stepping forward with that same cold pride she always carries, ice spreading out from her palms fast, quenching flame after flame before it can spread — but even she’s straining now, frost hissing into steam almost as fast as she throws it.
The void dragon girl raises her hands next, void spilling out from her fingers, wrapping around us like a shield against the heat, dark and absolute, swallowing flame whole wherever it touches.
But her arms are shaking.
"I can’t hold this for long," she says, voice tight, strained, sweat beading at her temple despite the cold void pouring off her. "Whatever he’s channeling — it’s too much. We need to do something. Now."
I grip the staff tighter, watching Orion’s silhouette burn brighter at the crater’s center, heat rolling off him in waves that even Frostine’s ice can barely touch anymore.
"Solnix! Demitress!" I call out, voice cutting sharp through the heat. "Get over here — we’re fighting fire with fire!"
They’re at my side in seconds, Solnix’s wings flaring gold, Demitress’s hellfire already curling black around her fists.
"Frostine, hold the shield as long as you can," I say. "Void, keep that barrier up — just a little longer."
The dragon girl grits her teeth, void thickening around us despite the strain.
I raise the staff, solar energy already gathering bright at the tip, and glance at Solnix. "Same frequency as him — match it, then push past it."
She nods, hands lifting, solar flame roaring to life alongside my own, the two lights merging bright and blinding.
Demitress steps up on my other side, hellfire building black and heavy in her palms, a fire that doesn’t behave like his at all — hungry, consuming, the kind that eats other flame instead of just burning against it.
"Together," I say. "Now."
Three streams of fire converge at once — solar light from me and Solnix, void-black hellfire from Demitress twisting through the middle of it — and the combined blast tears across the crater straight into Orion’s ancient inferno.
For a second the two forces grind against each other, heat and light screaming against each other loud enough to shake the ground —
— then Demitress’s hellfire does what fire’s supposed to do to fire.
It eats it.
Orion’s flame collapses inward, ancient power guttering out all at once, and his scream cuts off hard as the light drops, the crater plunging back into smoke and settling ash.
Silence.
He’s on the ground again, unmoving this time, armor scorched black, whatever power he had left completely spent.
I lower the staff, breathing hard, and glance around at everyone — Frostine easing her ice back, the void dragon girl letting her shield dissolve slow, shoulders sagging with relief.
"Everyone okay?" I ask.