There is no clean escape. Only choices that echo through eternity.
Eternity Man faces the final choice: end the harvest and doom the Obsidian Men, or let it continue and condemn generations of innocence. The dilemma is lose-lose—no zero-sum victory, no balance to strike. Saving the dreams means extinguishing 32 ancient refugees; sparing the shadows prolongs the theft of children's futures.
He chooses the children. With Gram's resonance-link, he disrupts the portal's alchemy—the blue-white flame gutters, the Vitruvian Map unravels. Dreams flow back to their owners, unharvested.
The Obsidian Men accept with quiet grace. No rage, no plea.
In Level -17, Lira seals the vault—ancient crystal wheel turning, marble door closing forever. One by one, the 32 dim and enter eternal sleep, their sarcophagus a silent crypt beneath the Vatican.
The fallout is swift. Somnolent supply severed, addicts age in days: mirrors shatter, skin sags, thrones empty. Suicides from towers, terror in mansions. Empires rust overnight. Society stumbles, leaderless—stunned by how deep the poison ran.
New shadows rise: egomaniacs and psychopaths untouched by the elixir fill the vacuum. Chaos reigns, a different jinn unleashed.
Eternity Man saves the innocent—but the world brands him destroyer. No gratitude. Just exile.
No third path.
No redemption.
Just the weight of forever broken.
Two roads diverge beneath a dying star
Save dreams and let the shadows pay the cost
Or spare the shadows, leave the children scarred
No third path opens; innocence is lost
He feels their fading pulse inside his own
To cut the thread leaves billions overthrown
Yet keeping it prolongs the ancient wrong
No balance struck, just ruin and regret
No way out remains
Shadows sleep or children weep
Eternity breaks
In Level -17 the air grows still
Lira seals the vault without a word
One by one they dim, accept the chill
The portal fades; the final silence heard
The addicts age in days what took decades
Mirrors crack, empires turn to dust
Some leap from towers, some in terror fade
The thrones stand empty, power turned to rust
No way out remains
Shadows sleep or children weep
Eternity breaks
Society stumbles, leaderless and raw
New egos rise from shadows once concealed
The children dream, but at what final cost?
No heroes left beneath these starless skies
Lyrics and music by T Atkinson
Next:
Chapter 8: No More Heroes
Copyright © 2025 T Atkinson. All rights reserved.