The cleanup didn't take long.
Amara handed a saddlebag to Eli, filled with softly glowing shards—each one pulsing faintly with the lingering energy of the fallen Rift creatures.
Dane and Irene eagerly grabbed a few, clutching them tightly before the shards dissolved into their palms. Just like that, they were absorbed—leaving behind only faint trails of shimmering dust.
Amara passed some to Rook and Tess, who followed suit. The shards vanished into their skin like drops of water into sand.
At the bottom of the bag, one shard remained.
Larger. Brighter. Its glow was steady, stronger than the rest—humming softly like a heartbeat.
"That's the one, right? From the Herald?" Irene asked, leaning in, her eyes gleaming with interest.
Eli turned the shard over in his hand, examining it.
Without a word, he nudged it toward Ezra.
"Huh? Me?" Ezra blinked, startled.
Eli shrugged, his voice flat. "You've been having trouble with your Aether. Blockage or something."
Ezra froze.
'How the hell does he know that?'
The others said nothing, watching in quiet curiosity.
Slowly, Ezra reached out and took the shard from Eli's hand.
The moment it touched his skin, warmth surged through him. The shard pulsed once—then sank into his palm, vanishing like it had never been there at all.
It wasn't overwhelming—not like the power back in the cavern—but the shift was immediate. His Aether flowed easier, smoother. Like something inside him had finally… unlocked.
Ezra exhaled slowly. "…Thanks."
Before he could fully process the change, Amara's voice rang out behind him.
"Wait, what?! I wanted to experiment on that one!"
She was already sprinting toward the cleanup crew, who had begun hauling off the shredded Rift remains, clearly scheming something.
The team laughed. Even Eli—stoic, unreadable Eli—let a faint smile tug at the corner of his mouth.
He turned back to Ezra, voice low and casual.
"Hey, kid. Ever seen the ocean?"
Ezra blinked. "Uh… no. Why?"
Eli didn't answer. Just stared off toward the horizon, eyes distant.
"Dane, you know what to do."
Before Ezra could even protest, the world dropped out from under his feet.
Dane's resonance flared.
Ezra's stomach flipped as he was launched skyward, the district vanishing into a blur beneath him. When they landed—hard—on the other side of the zone, Ezra collapsed to his knees, coughing, gagging, everything spinning.
He doubled over, vomiting into the dirt as Eli casually patted his back like it was no big deal.
"You get used to it," Eli said, far too amused.
Ezra wiped his mouth with a grimace, staggering to his feet.
And then—he saw it.
The ocean.
Endless and vast, shimmering beneath the warm glow of the rising sun. Gold spilled across the surface, streaked with soft pink and pale orange. The breeze kissed his face, salty and clean, sharp enough to clear the last of the nausea from his head.
He stood there for a moment—breathing, blinking, silent.
Then his feet moved on their own, carrying him toward the shore. His boots sank into the cool sand with every step.
Down by the water, Dane and Irene were already waist-deep, wrestling like children, their laughter echoing across the beach. Tess giggled as she dragged a very reluctant Rook into the shallows, splashing him until even he cracked a rare, faint smile.
Eli remained behind, perched lazily on a rock, arms folded behind his head, watching the others with quiet ease.
For the first time in a long while, Ezra felt something unfamiliar.
Peace.
Like maybe, just maybe, the world wasn't completely broken.