It started as a flare.
Then a scream.
By the time I reached the chapel, it was burning.
Astraea stood inside the flames, her frost aura melting against golden fire. Her sword was gone. Her left arm bled openly.
"They came for the crystal," she gasped.
"The failsafe?"
She nodded.
I wove barrier runes around her while Yuria doused the flame with her lightning.
But the fire didn’t stop.
Not until Seraphina walked in, wrapped in pure cold, and crushed it beneath her aura.
The chapel was saved.
But the crystal was gone.
And so was the figure who’d taken it.