The spoilt surface of war-torn Moon was shrouded with silence, but the tear that cut it was gone, and so was the Ancient One's grip over time.
Sam was standing among the ruin, her heart heavy with all they had fought for: the future, the past, the present. There it all was, but for what?
Finn was coming toward her, his face serious. "We did it," he breathed quietly. "We stopped him."
Sam nodded, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something was still wrong. She had defeated the Ancient One, but his words hung in her mind.
"Time will find a way."
Was this really the end, or had they merely postponed the inevitable? Lyra joined them, set-eyed but triumphant. "We may have won this battle, but the war isn't over. The timeline is frail. There'll always be threats, always be forces trying to alter it."
Sam gazed out at the stars, her mind losing herself in the endlessness of the moments that established the timeline. All this past, all this future-it was connected, integral to the same delicate web.
She knew very well that this fight was anything but over.
But for now, for at least, they had won themselves a moment of peace. And in the expanse of years, that had been enough.