Strain burned through Father’s body and pressed on his soul like a closing vice. Droplets of sweat rolled down his temple. He held the Long Night in a white-knuckled grip before him, his breathing coming out in puffs of frosty white mist. His heart thundered in his chest as he fought to gather himself once more.

He could feel it.

The Night’s Shadow was free. The ancient Rank 8 unfurled like an enormous snake ripped from its slumber. All throughout the empire, patches of Order spawned and spread. Even his safehouse wouldn’t be safe for much longer.

Nothing would be.

A slow smile spread across Father’s lips. He looked down at the staff clutched in his hands. There was a part of him that still couldn’t believe it. Even after all the planning, all the preparations, it felt impossible.

Father had never been one to be ruled by emotion. For hundreds of years, he had been guided by logic. By careful analysis and layer upon layer of planning. And even still, he had borne his doubts. There had been so many moving variables.

Only now did reality make itself undeniable.

And he had won.

By nightfall today, the Arbalest Empire and everyone remaining within it would be nothing more than singing stone. There was nobody here capable of stopping the Night’s Shadow. Even if Father himself had wanted to, he wouldn’t have been able to interfere.

He gave himself a single moment longer of silence. There was no purpose to life if one could not enjoy their successes. But a moment was all he allowed for. To revel was to invite trouble. The Night’s Shadow was as much a threat to him as it was the rest of the empire. The chains that bound it were broken. It could be controlled no longer.

“It is finished,” Father said. He turned, letting the staff in his hands lower.

Janice stood in wait, two packs slung over her shoulders. The rest of the safehouse was barren. There really wasn’t much of worth that they even needed to bring. The only object within the Arbalest Empire that mattered was already in his hands.

“We are to leave?” Janice asked. “I find it almost hard to believe. After all this time…”

“Time is nothing but another currency to be spent. Unless we wish to become one with this wretched place forever, we must depart.” Father said. “The true goal awaits us beyond the walls of this prison. This is only the beginning, Janice. Do not grow lax. I trust you have no final sentimentalities to handle before our departure?”

Janice was silent for a short moment.

“I do not,” Janice said. “You have taught me better than that.”

Father inclined his head. Then he tapped the Long Night on the ground. There was a metallic thrum as a twisting greyish-white portal snapped open before them like the eye of a man torn from sleep. “Then let us be on our way.”

***

“Hm,” Revin said as he gazed up at the enormous stone tentacle winding out from the portal in the blackened sky. Just one of them was enough to bring an end to things as people knew it. But there was more than one. There were hundreds, scattered across the empire — and that was only the beginning.

The Night’s Shadow was far more than tentacles. Its full body would emerge soon. Within hours at the most. And when that happened…

There would be nothing left.

The Arbalest Empire was finished. Even if every single Apostle joined forces with the Church of Repose to fight back against the Night’s Shadow, they wouldn’t be able to defeat it in time to keep the Arbalest Empire from being turned into a wasteland.

And we’re not exempt from that. We’ve still got some time, but not much. Even I can’t withstand the song of the Night’s Shadow for long.

“It’s over,” Garina whispered. She stared up into the sky, her pale features unreadable. “I wasn’t fast enough. I couldn’t find him in time.”

“In all fairness, it was a group effort.” Tillian sat beside the two of them, his face pale. “I thought we had a chance. It felt like we were on the right track. What if we get the Long Night back? Or another artifact? There—”

“No,” Revin said simply. “It’s a noble effort, Inquisitor. But it’s pointless. The Night’s Shadow was bound once through the combined effort of a great number of incredibly powerful mages. We have a fraction of that number and far less time and preparation. We lose.”

“You’re giving up?” Tillian asked. “Just like that?”

“It is not giving up,” Revin replied. His eyes lingered on the city in the distance. It was a Bastion. One of the four. Or, at least, it had been. Now its name no longer mattered. It was nothing but stone. The others would follow soon in its wake. “It is accepting what is.”

“But—”

“I am going to speak plainly for once,” Revin said, turning his gaze to Tillian. “Don’t expect it to happen often. We lost, Tillian. You’re a capable mage. There aren’t many of those. Don’t throw that away.”

“So you just want me to give up? To sit here and accept death?” Tillian demanded, pushing himself to his feet.

“Of course not,” Revin said through a bark of laughter. “You think I’m just going to wait around? The Empire is done, but that doesn’t mean I am. There’s an entire world outside the Arbalest Empire. We just need to make sure it stays that way. The Night’s Shadow isn’t going to stop here.”

Garina finally tore her gaze away from the blackened sky. “He’s right. The monster needs to be routed before its influence bleeds out of the Empire. And that’s not to mention what will happen when the barrier comes down. We can’t allow Father to leave with the Long Night.”

“Even if we could stop him, we’d have to find him. The Empire is huge,” Tillian said. “How would we know where he’s leaving from?”

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“The barrier,” Revin replied. “It’s not just there to stop people. The Long Night can’t pass through it while the barrier still stands — and not even Father can ignore that. He’ll have to take the whole thing down, and that won’t be fast.”

“A weak point in the barrier,” Garina muttered. “He’d have begun preparing a way out before this happened. Father can’t withstand the Night’s Shadow any more than we can. If we go to the weakest point in the barrier, then we’ll find him.”

“Is that a good thing?” Tillian asked. “Even if we find Father… can we actually beat him? There are only two of you. I doubt I can do much against a monster like that.”

Garina and Revin exchanged a quiet glance.

“I suppose we’ll have to find out, won’t we?” Revin asked with a soft smile. “One last battle. Not to save the Arbalest Empire, but perhaps to avenge it.”

Tillian’s eyes narrowed. Then he gave them a sharp nod. “It’s better than doing nothing. I won’t go quietly. Not after everything that Father has done. I may not be anywhere near as powerful as either of you, but I can be a distraction for at least a few moments. Where is he? Let’s go give that bastard a farewell party.”

***

Tim didn’t have any time to listen to the panicked yelling rolling through the Transport Cannon. Even as Lee turned Torrick and Edda away from the window and Noah staggered up from where he’d sat beside Brayden, confusion still ringing in his eyes, Tim gave them no mind.

Arbitage was turning to stone. A wave of screaming gray raced across the ground toward the Transport Cannon, and there wasn’t a damned thing any one of them could do about it. Tim had seen the powers of the Night’s Shadow before. He’d seen what its magic was capable of, and he knew one thing to be certain beyond a flicker of a doubt.

This was the end.

But it doesn’t have to be our end.

Tim gathered every single scrap of spatial magic he had. That was far more than he’d ever even dreamed of wielding before — and nowhere near as much as he now wished he had. The powers of a Rank 5 now felt like nothing more than a whisper in the face of the Night’s Shadow.

His blood pounded in his ears as he reached deeper than he ever had, drinking in every scrap of magic that dared linger within range. He sent his senses deep into the Transport Cannon. Into a building that almost felt like an old friend.

He could feel the Night’s Shadow everywhere. No place in the empire would be safe. There was only a single option left to them. Something that he never even would have dared consider before. A feat that no Spatial Mage had ever accomplished in any of the written history that Tim had read.

But now he didn’t have a choice.

I’ve gotten so much help from everyone. This old man has gone from a lonely wretch to having a purpose. To having a room full of lively new faces to inspire him. And now it’s his turn to pay that back. They’re all relying on me.

The wave of screaming gray was almost upon them. It was warping the walls of the Transport Cannon already. He could feel the world straightening, losing its freedom, rotting. The Night’s Shadow was rewriting reality in its image.

Noah had his violin in his hands, desperately playing as he tried to fend the magic back. Yoru’s moonlit hands were glowing with power. The other professors were all calling on what they could as they desperately fought back against the inevitable end bearing down on them.

None of it would be enough. He had to get them out of here. To safety. To the only spot within the Arbalest Empire where they had any chance of survival.

Tim let out a wordless scream.

He released every single scrap of magic he’d gathered.

And, with a thunderous crack, the Transport Cannon and everyone within it, vanished.

***

The world lurched around Noah. It twisted and warped as the ground fell out from beneath his feet. He found himself spinning, his mind and body scattered a thousand different directions at once.

He’d been finishing up his work fixing Brayden’s Rank 4 Rune when everything had come to a screeching halt. The scream of the Night’s Shadow had torn him back into reality just in time to see the end of the world.

Even as he’d summoned his violin to his hands and desperately started to play, he’d known he would be too late. The Night’s Shadow was astronomically more powerful than it had been the previous time. His magic couldn’t hold it off.

He’d barely even had time to register that thought. No more than a few notes into his song, the world had vanished. It had been blown apart into spinning motes of buzzing purple.

What happened? Where—

And then, as quickly as everything had fallen apart, it slammed back together.

Noah’s back hit hard ground. The air burst from his lungs in a wheeze as he found himself entangled in a mess of limbs and curses. A wave of dizziness slammed into him and his stomach lurched.

He flung himself to his feet, summoning his violin back to his hands — only to find that the view through the window had changed.

Arbitage was gone.

A field of blackened grass stretched out around them. He could still hear the Night’s Shadow’s screaming, but the sound was distant and muted, as if it were now a thousand miles away.

He couldn’t help but notice that the grass was a hell of a lot closer than it should have been. It was just below the window rather than half a dozen stories down.

And the view wasn’t the only difference. Parts of the Transport Cannon’s walls were warped into a polished, glossy stone riddled with holes primed and ready to sing. Large cracks ran throughout the building, threatening to split it apart entirely.

His domain instantly informed him that every single person that had been within the Transport Cannon was still there. They were all staggering to their feet, just as lost as he felt.

“What?” Noah asked, lowering his violin. “What happened?”

Tim let out a groan. “I teleported us. The crack.”

“You teleported the entire fucking Transport Cannon?” Noah asked in disbelief.

“No.” Tim sent Noah a weak smile. “Just… just the top bit.”

Noah let out a disbelieving laugh. A part of him was still in shock. “Holy shit. You saved us. I — fuck. Aribtage is gone.”

“Not just Arbitage,” Yoru said. “Everything. The Night’s Shadow is everywhere.”

“Fuck,” Noah said again. He swallowed, a knot forming in his throat. The Empire was finished. The Advanced Track Teachers. Their students. All the people they’d met, the good and the bad. Everyone who lived within it was — or soon would be — gone.

“The Night’s Shadow is awake, isn’t it?” Moxie asked, her voice little more than a whisper. Noah could see the thoughts in her eyes. The horror that none of them could afford to linger on, suppressed behind determination.

If they couldn’t get out of here, they would be among the ranks of the dead.

“It is. And it is coming,” Yoru said grimly. “Its presence approaches.”

“Are we going to die?” Torrick asked.

“No,” Violet said, but her voice was taut. “We’ll find a way out.”

“Don’t have to find one,” Tim said. He let out a groan and pushed himself away from the cracked remains of the Transport Cannon’s control panel. “The crack in the barrier. It’s right outside. I took us to it.”

Noah’s eyes went wide. Then they thinned. Tim had bought them a chance. Noah couldn’t afford to waste time on surprise or confusion. There was a way out of this.

“We need to move,” Moxie said. “Now.”

Noah nodded sharply and strode for the window. “Right. Come on. Follow me. We’re breaking this damn barrier and getting out of here before the Night’s Shadow catches up. Stay close.”

Everyone finished pulling themselves off the ground as Noah strode over to the window and leapt out of it, landing on the blackened grass with a thud. It only took him an instant to spot a translucent barrier that rose through the air just behind the remains of the Transport Cannon.

He strode around the warped building, already reaching out to Sunder in preparation to carve through the last thing in their path.

And then he froze.

They weren’t the first ones to the barrier. Two people already stood before it.

The blood in Noah’s veins ran cold.

No.

“Vermil,” Father said, the smile that spread across his lips never quite reaching his eyes. “Isn’t this a surprise? Who would have thought that — of all people — it would have been you here at the end to bear witness? How… appropriate.”