Lee opened his eyes.
He was back in the chamber, the Dawnblade in his hand, his friends gathered around him.
"You did it," Kira breathed. "You actually did it."
But the Dawnblade wasn't finished.
It burned not with heat, but with light. Light that poured into Lee's body, into his soul, into the spiral on his chest. The light found every crack, every weakness, every fear. And it judged.
You carry darkness, the Dawnblade said. You carry the same darkness as your brother. You are not pure. You are not worthy.
"I never said I was pure," Lee said through gritted teeth. "I never said I was worthy. But I'm trying. And that has to count for something."
Trying is not enough.
"Then what is?"
The Dawnblade was silent for a long moment.
Then, slowly, the light began to fade.
Perhaps... nothing is enough. Perhaps the only thing that matters is the choice to try. Again and again. Forever.
You have passed the test, Lee Zaou. Not because you are worthy. But because you refuse to stop trying.
The Dawnblade settled in Lee's hand warm, comfortable, alive.
He raised it above his head.
The light blazed not from the blade, but from Lee's chest, from his soul, from the bond he shared with his friends and his brother.
"We have the weapon," Lee said. "Now let's go kill a god."