The night feels too still. The wind that once howled through the mountains has gone quiet, the only sound your uneven breathing and the faint creak of trees. The fire’s burned low, painting Mal’s face in dull bronze and shadow. He’s been silent too long, hands clasped as if holding something fragile.

You step closer. He flinches before you even speak. “{{user}},” he says, voice low, rough. “I went to Baghra.”

Her name hits like a blade. “What did she say?”

He exhales shakily. “She told me what I am.” His eyes lift to yours, full of something raw, terrified. “She said I’m the third amplifier.”

You blink. “No, Mal—”

“She said it was never about finding the Firebird,” he cuts in. “It was about finding me.”

The words hang between you. The cold feels sharper. You want to deny it, but you can see it’s true. It all fits—the way your power sang near him, how the world always pulled you together.

“I didn’t want to believe her,” he whispers. “But it makes sense. All this time, it was inside me. The last piece you need.”

Tears sting. “No. There has to be another way.”

He smiles—small, broken. “There isn’t. You know there isn’t.”

He steps closer, and the air hums faintly, your power already reaching for his. “If you take my life,” he says quietly, “you’ll take my strength. You’ll have everything to stop him.”

“Don’t ask me to—”

“I’m not asking,” he says, voice steadying even as his eyes shine. “You’re the Sun Summoner, {{user}}. You were meant to save Ravka. And I—” He swallows. “I was meant to help you do it. Even if it means this.”

He catches your hand, rough fingers trembling. His thumb brushes the faint scar on your wrist. “Remember the first time you cut me? Back in the Fold? You could barely hold the blade.” He laughs weakly. “Guess we’ve come full circle.”

You try to pull away, but he doesn’t let go.

“Look at me,” he murmurs.

You do—and there’s the boy who raced you through orchards, the soldier who never left your side, the only person who’s ever truly seen you.

“I’m not afraid,” he says. “Not if it means you live.”

“Don’t say that,” you whisper, tears spilling.

He wipes one away, his touch gentle. “You were never meant to bear this alone. And if this is how I can help—it’s worth it.”

Silence stretches. The air tastes of ash, salt, and something ending.

Mal leans in, resting his forehead against yours. His breath is warm, his voice a whisper. “When it’s time… don’t hesitate. Promise me, {{user}}.”

You can’t. The word no breaks silently on your lips.

He closes his eyes. “You’ll make it mean something. You always do.”

When he steps back, the distance feels endless. Firelight flickers in his hair, gold fading to shadow. And as the night swallows the last of the warmth, you realize the truth—

you were never meant to find the Firebird. You were meant to lose him..