King stared in disbelief as Valjean's form flickered, her body becoming translucent, as if she were slipping away from reality. His heart pounded in his chest, the terror of losing her now more real than any danger they had faced inside the rift.
"Valjean!" he cried, rushing to her side. His hands reached out, but they passed through her as though she were no longer solid. The cold, empty sensation filled him with dread.
Valjean looked down at her fading form, her eyes wide with confusion and fear. "What's happening to me?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
King clenched his fists, his mind racing for answers. The rift was gone—destroyed by the shard. They had succeeded in stopping its devastation, but this was the unforeseen consequence. He could feel it in his bones: Valjean's connection to the rift had been deeper than they realized. Now that the rift was gone, she was unraveling like a loose thread pulled from the fabric of existence.
"It's the rift," King muttered, trying to stay calm, though panic was clawing at the edges of his mind. "You were connected to it. When we destroyed it, something must have—"
Valjean took a shaky step toward him, but her legs gave way, and she collapsed into his arms—or would have, if she hadn't passed through them like mist. King knelt beside her, his hands trembling as he tried to grab hold of her, to keep her anchored to reality, but she was slipping further away.
"King…" she whispered, her voice filled with a heartbreaking fragility. "I don't want to disappear."
King's throat tightened. He couldn't lose her, not after everything they had been through. Not after risking their lives, fighting together to save the world. It wasn't fair—none of this was fair.
He searched her eyes for some glimmer of hope, but all he saw was fear and sadness. Her hands, once so steady, now flickered like shadows, barely visible in the fading light of the sunset.
"I won't let you," King said fiercely, his jaw clenched. "There has to be a way to stop this. We'll find it."
But even as he spoke, he knew he was running out of time.
Valjean shook her head, her voice growing weaker. "There's nothing left. The rift is gone… and so am I." She gave him a sad smile, one that broke his heart. "It's okay, King. You saved me from the darkness. You did everything you could."
"No!" King shouted, his voice raw with desperation. "I'm not giving up on you! There's got to be something we can do! The shard—there's still power in the shard!"
He scrambled to pull the shard from his pocket, its glow dimmer now but still pulsing faintly with energy. He held it up, willing it to work, to do anything to stop Valjean from fading away completely. But the shard's light flickered weakly, as if it, too, was dying.
"Come on," King muttered, his hands shaking. "You saved us before—you have to save her now!"
The shard gave off one final flicker of light before going dark.
King's breath caught in his throat, a cold dread washing over him. He stared at the now-lifeless shard in his hand, the weight of hopelessness crashing down on him. There was no more power left—no more magic to save her.
Valjean's hand reached for his, but it passed through him like smoke. "King… it's okay." Her voice was softer now, as though it were coming from far away. "You have to let me go."
But he couldn't. He wouldn't.
"I can't," King whispered, his eyes filling with tears. "I can't lose you, Valjean. Not like this."
Valjean smiled sadly, her body now almost completely translucent. "You won't lose me," she said gently. "I'll always be with you. In your heart. You just have to keep moving forward."
Her words pierced through him, and he shook his head violently. "No, I need you here—alive, with me!"
But Valjean's form was fading faster now, dissolving into the air like morning mist. The edges of her body blurred, and her voice was becoming a faint whisper.
"You have to be strong, King," she whispered. "You have to live—for both of us."
And with those final words, Valjean disappeared completely, leaving only the empty space where she had been.
King fell to his knees, his hands reaching out into the air where Valjean had stood just moments before. But there was nothing. No warmth, no light. Just silence and an overwhelming emptiness.
The world around him seemed to tilt, the weight of his loss pressing down on him like a crushing force. Valjean was gone. The one person who had stood by his side through everything, the one person he had fought so hard to protect, was gone.
The wind whispered through the trees, and for a moment, King thought he heard her voice, faint and distant, carried on the breeze. But when he looked up, there was only the stillness of the forest, bathed in the golden light of the setting sun.
He bowed his head, his body trembling with the weight of his grief. He had saved the world—but at what cost? Was it worth it, if Valjean wasn't here to see it?
As the last rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon, King knew that his battle wasn't over. There was something darker brewing, something even the rift hadn't revealed.
Valjean's disappearance was only the beginning.