The temple was settling down.

Zeffre stood amidst the aftermath, her breath shuddering inside her helmet. The golden light that had wreathed her form during the battle now flickered and dimmed, as if sensing the end of conflict. Around her, the rings encircling the final Artifact slowed their rotation, humming a low, eerie tune, acknowledging a victor.

Leaning heavily against a crumbled pillar, the Emissary's white cloak was soaked in crimson, stark against the dim light This was not the first time Zeffre had to fight them, and she was certain it wouldn't be the last.

It didn't matter.

As she raised her Beowulf, aiming to end this cycle, her eyes caught a fracture in the Emissary's visor. A crack that revealed the human underneath. Grey eyes met hers, and in them, Zeffre saw a hauntingly familiar gaze.

'Sarah?'

It was stupid. Of course it was Sarah. She already knew that; this was just a version of her friend that had decided to be the Emissary. It wasn't her friend. She knew that… So why couldn't she just pull the trigger?

She wanted to say something to her, to tell her that she needed to do this, that there must be an answer out there.

'Why does she look so sad?'

Memories flooded back unbidden — finding Sarah's lifeless body on the Eye, her blood pooling around her, eyes frozen open, staring into nothingness.

Zeffre winced at the memory.

In that moment a twin bolt of laser light cut through the air, striking Sarah squarely in the heart. Her expression shifted to shock, then nothingness, as her form dissolved into the luminescent cascade that marked the death of a Starborn.

Whirling around, Zeffre locked eyes with the shooter. He stood nonchalantly, clad in armor mirroring hers, his posture relaxed yet mocking. "What? I don't have all day, you know," he drawled, his voice dripping with boredom.

"Come on, grab the Artifact. Let's be done with this cycle," he said, holstering his twin-barreled laser rifle with an air of finality.

He was right. It didn't matter.

Approaching the Artifact, now ominously silent above its plinth, Zeffre felt a surge of anger. The Artifact's song, once a melody of mysteries, now seemed to mock her with its silence. Even after all this time, its meaning eluded her. But one thing was crystal clear — she was determined to unravel its secrets, whatever it took.

The desolate remnants of the Ecliptic mercenary base lay strewn across the bridge, a stark contrast to the fading light of day. Zeffre walked alongside the Hunter, their footsteps echoing amid the carnage. Armored bodies, remnants of a battle fiercely fought, dotted their path back to her ship.

The Hunter carried the final Artifact under his arm, his step casual.

Zeffre was inspecting her rifle.

Why was she inspecting her rifle? She knew for an absolute fact that she didn't need to. That once they make the final jump to the Unity all of their non-Starborn gear would be left behind. And yet here she was fiddling with the different parts of her gun. Checking the clip, inspecting the frame for damage, reading the inscriptions, toggling the safety. She just needed something to do, something to keep her mind busy.

'Why did she look so sad?'

Zeffre scowled under her helmet at the intrusive thought. What a stupid question. That wasn't her Sarah. Her Sarah had died a long time ago.

There was movement off to her right.

Snapping her rifle she saw what looked like an injured Ecliptic mercenary. He was trembling, aiming his rifle at the pair as if he would be able to do something. Zeffre lowered her rifle, going back to thinking it was the most interesting thing in the universe. As long as the idiot didn't fire she didn't see any reason on adding his body to the pile with the others. After all—

A white ball of starlight struck the mercenary's chest, disintegrating his armor and silencing his fear in an instant. His body crumbled onto the metal walkway, adding to the bridge's grim tapestry.

Zeffre turned her helmet to look at the Hunter. "Bullseye," he said, his hand still outstretched from his lethal gesture.

"That was a bit much."

"You can never get in enough target practice," he said shrugging. "Besides, in the grand scheme of things, what's one less mercenary?".

He was right. Zeffre didn't truly care about the nameless man. They were about to make the final jump anyway, and afterwards this universe would stop existing in her reality. That didn't mean what she said earlier was wrong, it was excessive.

Zeffre felt tired.

In the enveloping darkness, Zeffre took her final steps in this universe. The void around her, a familiar yet always awe-inspiring expanse. The final path she needed to take was through this void, one with an invisible floor – a pathway through nothingness. Each step forward caused the darkness to recede slightly, revealing an extraordinary tapestry of light slowly taking form in the distance.

Motes of light, distant and ethereal, twinkled into existence, each a solitary beacon in the vast emptiness. As she walked, the lights multiplied, coalescing into a kaleidoscope of colors that painted the void. They swirled and clustered, gradually shaping into the unmistakable forms of galaxies – spirals, ellipticals, each a swirl of starlight and cosmic mystery.

The path led her towards a solitary figure, standing as the sole sentinel in this realm beyond realms. As Zeffre approached, the surrounding darkness transformed into a soft, embracing white light, painting a canvas upon which galaxies danced and swirled around them.

The figure before her was a mirror of herself, sans helmet, with long dark blue hair flowing down her back and eyes of deep cobalt, serene and knowing. Eyes that Zeffre was intimately familiar with, but the figures expression… It was peaceful. Serene. An expression those eyes are mostly never apart of.

"You made it," the figure spoke with a voice as calm as the scene around them. "I hope you are enjoying the view. I never get tired of staring at it, eternity."

Zeffre rolled her eyes. "You always say that you know," she said back to the entity. Honestly, it would be better if each time she entered the Unity they could skip this little interaction. Never once had she found it to be insightful, and the events at the Buried Temple still lingered on her mind. She was ready for this cycle to be over.

"Do I? Huh. Welcome home, Starborn. The choice, as always, is yours," the figure replied, her tone light.

Zeffre moved past her mirrored self, her gaze fixed on what lay beyond. The Unity loomed ahead, a dark, rippling orb encased in a shell of pulsating white light. It hummed with a frequency that seemed to vibrate through her very being, a sound both alien and intimately familiar.

Standing at the precipice of the Unity, Zeffre paused. She knew the ritual was not complete – one more line, a final echo before her departure. "Although you leave this universe behind, a new universe awaits you. Who will you be in this one? What choices will you make?" came the voice from behind, a gentle reminder of the endless cycle. Zeffre hated that question. She already knew what choices she would make; whatever choices were necessary to get her back to this place. To experience what happened next.

Her response was a silent step forward into the Unity. In that fleeting moment of transition, she felt an overwhelming rush of knowledge, a brief touch of the infinite. Answers to every question, outcomes to every choice, the secrets of countless universes – all within her grasp, just for a heartbeat.

Then, as quickly as it came, it vanished, leaving her in darkness once more. On the brink of another cycle.