Voss is still beside me as I appear in a damp and dark cave, his hands on my shoulders, steadying me.

The cave is lined with bookshelves and desks full of ancient texts and scattered papers.

“Wh-what?” I breathe, alarm pulsing in my mind.

“As I said,” Voss gestures smoothly to a blue column of light at the center of the cave. In its center, Raith floats, suspended with motes of dust and rotating slowly. There’s a gash across his stomach and it’s frozen in time, drops of blood suspended mid-air. “I brought you to Raith.”

"Raith!" I rush forward, heart pounding.

I reach for him but the column feels like glass, stopping me from getting close. I pound on it, palms sliding down the magical barrier. “Let me help him. I can heal him.”

“Yes,” Voss says, moving to stand beside me. “That was why I brought him here. Without your healing, he would have certainly died.”

I stare at Raith. His eyes are closed and his expression is peaceful. He's shirtless, revealing numerous half-healed wounds across his chest and arms. The stasis has preserved him exactly as he was, frozen in time.

Through our tether, I sense him—distant but present, as if sleeping deeply.

"Why does he feel so far away?" I whisper.

“Feel?” Voss asks.

I shake my head. “It’s nothing. It just… feels wrong.”

“No, Nessa. This is exactly what you are meant for. Saving the ones you love, just like you told me.”

I study Raith's face, memorizing every line, every curve. Even in stasis, he radiates strength, determination. The man who fought his way through legacies, who claimed the blade, who carried me to safety despite his own wounds.

"What do I do?" I ask, not taking my eyes off him.

"I'll release the stasis," Voss says. "But you must act quickly. His injuries will resume their damage the moment he's free."

Typhon materializes at my shoulder, his form tense with watchfulness. "Something here is wrong,” he warns in my mind.

"It's Raith," I reply silently. "What choice do I have? Even if it’s some sort of trick. I need to help him."

Typhon's unease radiates through our tether, but he doesn't argue further.

"I'm ready," I tell Voss, gathering what little essence I've managed to recover.

Voss waves his hand and the blue light flickers, then fades. Raith begins to fall forward as gravity reclaims him, and I rush to catch him, staggering under his weight. But he feels lighter than I expected, as if he’s already lost so much blood that I can feel its absence.

Gods… Raith…

I lower him gently to the floor, cradling his head in my lap. Blood seeps from his wounds, his breathing shallow and labored.

"Hurry," Voss urges, standing back.