Amaterasu watched Nicol Bolas bound by the blue and golden chains, and remembered the vision she had experienced only moments ago. A vision of her own fate. She had seen herself dying. She had seen Ugin dying. She had seen all the planeswalkers around her collapsing one by one, their sparks extinguishing like candles in the rain.
With a sigh, her eyes refocused and fixed on the green dragon's head.
As beings who had transcended the very concept of matter, fatal organs such as the brain or heart had ceased to be weaknesses long ago. But every being, no matter how elevated, had a fatal weakness: its core of existence, located in the soul, and the soul in turn located in an internal dimension within their brains. If Amaterasu was willing to give everything, to burn her very existence to launch a final attack, she could destroy the core of existence of the chained Nicol Bolas. But in exchange, she herself would cease to exist. Not even the most powerful reincarnation spell could revive her, because her consciousness would be completely annihilated. There would be nothing to reincarnate.
Amaterasu looked at the green dragon with absolute coldness and let out one last roar. The nine suns on her back, those that had illuminated Takamagahara for millions of years, merged into her nine tails. The white fur turned golden, then orange, then a white so pure it erased the contours of reality.
And then, Amaterasu made her body, soul, and energy explode.
The resulting chaotic forces were guided solely by her will. The fox goddess dissolved into a nebula of pure power that condensed into the shape of an arrow.
Nicol Bolas's eyes widened.
If Amaterasu were also to sacrifice her own will and ego along with her planeswalker spark into that arrow, he was certain it could pierce his spiritual defenses and destroy his ego. The only true death for a being like him.
—GRAAAAAH!
The dragon roared furiously. The chains enveloping him trembled violently. With a deafening crack, the golden chains shattered into fragments. The three rank-ten beings controlling them were flung backward, spitting blood from the rebound of the broken spell, their bodies spinning uncontrollably in the void.
But Nicol Bolas knew it was already too late when he saw the arrow shoot forth.
And then something he did not expect occurred.
Amaterasu's spark and ego, which should have been fused by the arrow's chaotic power to further enhance it, did not dissolve. Instead of being consumed, they were enveloped by that very power. The chaotic energy, rather than annihilating them, protected them, using itself as a shield to preserve them.
Nicol Bolas's eyes widened even further, but this time not from surprise, but from sudden realization.
He smiled sinisterly.
—HAHAHAHAHA! Ugin! —he roared, his voice echoing through the dimension like thunder—. It seems you have been betrayed!
Ugin's eyes widened.
He saw how the arrow, which should have embedded itself in his brother's head, changed direction. It did not veer off, but flew in the opposite direction entirely, toward a weak point in the sealing dimension. A point that only someone with the power of destiny that Amaterasu possessed could have detected.
Before the arrow pierced the newly opened crack, Nicol Bolas followed it with his gaze.
His draconic pupils narrowed for just an instant.
He could have stopped it if he pushed himself to the limit.
But he did not.
His attention returned to Ugin.
He had waited too long for this moment to waste it chasing someone else. Unforeseen events always found a way to ruin a certain victory, and Bolas had no intention of giving destiny another chance.
The arrow, with Amaterasu's spark and ego protected within, disappeared through the tiny hole.
The crack began to close almost instantly, sealing itself until no trace of the breach remained.
Simultaneously, Nicol Bolas's victorious roar was heard. The remaining blue chains shattered into a thousand pieces, and the green dragon rose to his full height, freed.
---
Ciri's eyes, which had been white, regained their clarity.
She sat up slowly. Her body trembled, not from weakness, but from something very different. A piercing light ignited in her eyes. The expression was so ancient and laden with power that the people around her stepped back without realizing it.
Geralt frowned in confusion.
Eithné watched with narrowed eyes, her supernatural senses picking up something that escaped the understanding of the others.
—What the hell...? —Geralt exclaimed.
His wolf medallion, the School of the Wolf medallion hanging from his neck, began to vibrate. The medallion rose on its own, floating in the air, pulling at the chain that held it to the witcher's neck. The chain tightened. Geralt grabbed it with one hand, but the vibration did not stop. The metal began to crack, with small fissures running across the surface of the silver wolf.
—HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Ciri burst into laughter. Her laughter echoed in the oak clearing. It was an ancient, powerful laugh, laden with the purest joy of being alive.
She tossed her hair back with a brusque gesture of her hand, her eyes gleaming with a golden radiance that was not human. She raised her head to the sky and roared with a voice that overlapped itself, as if two beings spoke at once from the same throat:
—!!!!!I, AMATERASU, LADY OF GENESIS, RULER OF DESTINY, NINE SUNS HEAVENLY FOX, HAVE AWAKENED!!!!!
Eithné frowned intensely. She had expected the girl to transform into a dryad, or perhaps nothing to happen, given the child's special lineage. But this behavior was too abnormal. That voice, that presence... did not belong to this girl.
—Lady Eithné, what is happening? —Geralt asked, his hand unconsciously tightening on the hilt of the sword strapped to his back.
—I don't know —replied the dryad queen, her tone calm but tense—. Perhaps we should…
Eithné tried to step forward, her hand extended toward Ciri.
Before she could touch her, Ciri's body released a wave of power. It was as if the air itself solidified and struck. Geralt, Braenn, and Eithné were thrown backward, their bodies crashing against the oak walls with a crash of splintered wood. The witcher struck the back of his head against a root and saw stars for an instant.
He got up with difficulty, shaking his head to clear it.
Ciri raised a hand before her. Space tore open. A vortex formed in the air, a swirl of irregular edges that absorbed the light around it. The girl—or whatever she was now—stepped through it without looking back.
Geralt stared at the place where Ciri had disappeared, his hand still on his sword's hilt and his heart pounding against his ribs.
—Ciri…