Sarah's POV
The collapse of the Blackwood mansion left a jagged emptiness in its wake. I could still hear the echoes of the breaking wood and stone, the strange, otherworldly howls of the rift as it sealed itself shut.
But as I stood there, clutching Axel's hand so tightly my knuckles ached, I couldn't help but feel that the peace was temporary. The air still felt heavy, the faint remnants of the rift's presence lingering like a bruise on the fabric of reality. Eren was gone—or at least, the twisted shadow of him that had emerged from the rift was gone. Yet his words haunted me, each syllable laced with an obsession that made my skin crawl.
I couldn't stop seeing his face. Not the monstrous, half-demonic version of him that had tried to destroy us, but the man I had once loved. The man I had married. The man who had stood beside me in better times. Those memories felt so distant now, as if they belonged to another life.
Axel squeezed my hand, grounding me in the present. "You okay?" he asked, his voice low and steady.
I nodded, even though I wasn't sure if it was true. "I just... I didn't expect it to end like that."
"Neither did I," he admitted, his gaze fixed on the patch of scorched earth where the mansion had stood. "But maybe it was the only way it could end. He was too far gone, Sarah. The rift had twisted him into something he couldn't come back from."
I swallowed hard, trying to push down the lump in my throat. "I know," I whispered. "But I keep wondering... what if I could have saved him? What if I had tried harder, done more—"
"Stop," Axel said, his tone firm but not unkind. He turned to face me, his eyes searching mine. "You did everything you could. You tried to reach him, to make him see reason. But Eren made his choice. Whatever part of him that was still human... it's gone now."
His words were meant to comfort me, but they only deepened the ache in my chest. Eren's final moments replayed in my mind, his broken voice as he apologized, the way his body had dissolved into nothingness. I had seen the man I once loved, even if only for a fleeting moment, and it had been enough to remind me of what we'd lost.
Celeste stepped forward, her presence as serene and commanding as ever. The glow around her had faded, but there was still something otherworldly about her, as if she were more spirit than flesh. "The rift's influence has been severed," she said, her voice calm but tired. "For now, the balance has been restored."
"For now?" Axel echoed, his brow furrowing. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Celeste's gaze turned distant, her expression thoughtful. "The rift may be sealed, but its scars remain. The energy it unleashed on this world doesn't simply vanish. It lingers, shaping the places and people it touches. Eren was not the first to succumb to its power, and he won't be the last."
A chill ran down my spine. "So... this isn't over?"
Celeste's eyes softened as she looked at me. "It's over for you, Sarah. The path you've walked has reached its end. But the world is vast, and there are others who will find themselves drawn to the shadows the rift left behind. You've done your part. Now, it's time to heal."
Heal. The word felt foreign to me, almost impossible. After everything we had been through, how was I supposed to return to a normal life? To pretend that the rift, the mansion, Eren... that none of it had happened? I wasn't the same person who had stepped into this nightmare, and I never would be again.
"What happens to us now?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Celeste smiled faintly, though it didn't reach her eyes. "That's for you to decide. You've been given a second chance—both of you. Use it wisely."
Her words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Before I could ask her what she meant, a gust of wind swept through the clearing, and when I blinked, Celeste was gone. Only the faintest trace of her presence remained, like the lingering scent of rain after a storm.
Axel exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "Well, that's cryptic," he muttered, his tone tinged with frustration. "Use it wisely? What's that supposed to mean?"
I didn't answer. My mind was spinning, torn between relief and uncertainty. Freedom came with its own set of challenges.
"What do we do now?" I asked, my voice small.
Axel looked at me, his expression softening. "We figure it out," he said simply.
__
The journey back to civilization felt surreal. The world outside the Blackwood mansion was untouched by the chaos we had endured. The sky was clear, the air crisp and cool. Birds chirped in the distance, their songs a stark contrast to the eerie silence of the rift.
We found an old dirt road and followed it until we reached a small town. It was a sleepy little place, the kind where everyone knew everyone else. We must have looked like a mess. Our clothes torn and dirty, our faces pale and drawn- but no one questioned us. A kind old woman at a diner offered us food and a place to rest.
As we sat in the booth, sipping on hot coffee and nibbling at warm slices of pie, Axel reached across the table and took my hand. "We made it," he said, his voice quiet but full of conviction. "We're alive. That has to count for something."
I nodded, though the weight of everything we'd lost still pressed on my chest. "What if the scars never fade?" I asked, my voice trembling. "What if we're never the same?"
Axel's grip on my hand tightened. "We won't be the same," he said firmly. "But maybe that's not a bad thing. What we've been through... it's changed us. But it's also made us stronger.
His words were like a balm to my soul, soothing the raw edges of my pain.
__
Over the next few weeks, we began to rebuild our lives. It wasn't easy—there were nights when I woke up screaming, haunted by dreams of the rift and Eren's twisted form. Axel was always there, holding me until the fear subsided, his presence a constant source of comfort.
We found a small cabin on the outskirts of the town, surrounded by towering pine trees and rolling hills. It was quiet, secluded—a place where we could heal in peace. Axel took up woodworking, spending hours in the small workshop he built behind the cabin. I started painting again, pouring my emotions onto the canvas in a way that felt cathartic and freeing.
Though the scars of the past remained, we found a sense of peace in the simplicity of our new life. The nightmares grew less frequent, and the weight of the rift's presence slowly began to lift.
But even as we settled into this fragile peace, I couldn't get over the feeling that the rift's influence wasn't truly gone. Its shadows lingered in the corners of my mind, a reminder that some battles never truly end.
Yet for now, we had each other. And that was enough....
Until...