Her eyes move only at the last word, flickering over to look at me. All my insides turn to ice at her gaze—there’s nothing. None of Varia behind those eyes. No mirth, no pride, no grace, no determination, no cruelty. Just…nothing.

“Th-They’re worried about you,” I stammer. “Everyone. Fione most of all.”

Another flicker of her eyes, this time inward. She still recognizes names. That’s good—she’s not too far gone. I can still bring her back. But first, I have to goad the thing inside her. Draw it out like a poison.

My ghostly, half-dream gaze travels down to her neck, the Bone Tree choker made of valkerax fangs seemingly tighter in her skin, digging points into her flesh that drip blood. Her own blood, for once.

It really is eating her.

“I heard”—I try a smile—“you’re going to name your kid after me, aren’t you?”

Varia blinks slowly but betrays nothing.

“But what if it’s a boy?” I hum softly. “Hmm. Zeran might work. With an N. Fione might hate that one, though—you’ll have to confer with her.”

Varia’s face twitches as if something is fighting inside her, thrashing with no escape, so deep down, it can only ripple her surface. She’s still in there. Her love for Fione, her hopes for the future—she still has hope. Hope that I’ll save her. That this will end, and that she’ll live to see another world made with her love at her side. An impossible wish, she must think.

But nothing’s impossible at the end of the world.

It’s time to twist the dagger in the wound.

“I’ve decided I’m not going to save you anymore.” I inhale. “I’m not going to put you back together.”

Her head tilts slowly, eerily. I try desperately to keep my dream-voice even. Honest-sounding. Luring out the Bone Tree, one root at a time.

“We’re going to split you again.”

“No.” Her voice rasps out instantly, but it’s not hers. It’s deeper, darker. Far older than she. Than me. Than anyone.

“Yes.” I lift my shaking chin. “It’s the only way to stop you. I tried to help you, but you killed too many people. You can’t be allowed to keep hurting others like this. You deserve to be punish—”

“YOU,” the Bone Tree thunders at me, Varia’s canines flashing in her rotting gums. “YOU. DESERVE. TO BE PUNISHED.”