Epilogue 4 – An Ending For Real
“Do we have everything?” Umbra asked again, scanning the small collection of crates and reinforced cases for what felt like the ninth time.
“That is the eighth time you have asked that question this afternoon,” Farah replied patiently, crouched on the concrete ground as she continued inscribing the travel circle in careful lines.
They had packed lightly by necessity rather than preference. Interworld travel was taxing, violent in ways that did not leave bruises but strained reality itself. Only what could be carried close and anchored properly would survive the crossing.
Umbra had prioritized knowledge. Dozens of laminated blueprints were sealed in oilskin wrapping, along with printed scientific papers and engineering documents she had painstakingly selected. She did not understand most of it, but she had scholars in her territory clever enough to translate theory into practice. Perhaps this would finally be the push she needed to build the public school she had dreamed of since beginning her reforms. She always wanted a place for commoners to learn letters, mathematics, and perhaps one day even natural philosophy.
There were also a few bottles of decent wine they had acquired, carefully cushioned, along with preserved foods, Farah’s garments, and a handful of small conveniences from Earth that amused Umbra more than she would admit.
They could not bring much.
But they were also bringing something far heavier than paper.
“Is this safe?” Luna asked from across the room, arms folded tightly over her chest.
Umbra tilted her head, considering. “Safeish.”
Luna frowned. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” Umbra replied evenly, “that it is safe provided nothing goes catastrophically wrong.”
The small group of teenagers stood nearby, subdued and uncertain. The government had not yet decided what to do with them after the incident. With all the manipulation, violence, and alleged brainwashing. Umbra had offered an alternative: come to Ganymede. There, if the claims of coercion were false, there would be no bureaucratic gridlock to hide behind. And if they were victims, they would be treated as such.
Every one of them had agreed.
Guilt hung on them like damp cloaks.
Umbra’s gaze lingered briefly on Sarah. She remained watchful. If the girl proved to be a willing murderer rather than a manipulated one, Umbra would not hesitate.
Still, she believed in structure, in opportunity. She could find them work, or, if they proved capable, perhaps sponsor them at the royal academy once they learned Ganymedean. They were eighteen or nineteen, old enough to rebuild themselves, young enough to adapt.
She remembered her own first step into that world. The strange skies and strange people…
And then the crushing weight of responsibility.
Umbra glanced at Farah, who was finishing the outer ring of the sigil, golden light threading through carved grooves in the concrete.
Perhaps it would not be so terrible for them.
It might even be amusing to watch modern youths adjust to a world without satellites, without smartphones, without instant answers. Most were still in secondary education here. Engineering, literature, computing… Who knew? They might carve out places for themselves.
“Dearest,” Farah said at last, rising gracefully. “I believe I am finished. I must add the Witch’s blood, and the spell should deposit us somewhere within our territory.”
Umbra exhaled slowly. “I look forward to sleeping in my own bed again.”
Farah arched a brow. “If you were not so tall, that would not have been an issue.”
Umbra stared at her. “Ah, yes. Of course. Allow me to simply remove my feet. That should resolve the matter entirely.”
A faint smile tugged at Farah’s lips as she reached into the inner fold of her satchel and withdrew the small plastic container that held the blood of a truly dead god, a substance so dark and viscous that it seemed to swallow the light around it rather than reflect it. She screwed open the top, her expression shifting into one of solemn concentration. With a silent breath, she tilted the container, allowing several heavy drops of the liquid to fall onto the center of the circle she had so painstakingly inscribed into the pavement.
As the blood struck the final sigil, it did not splatter as ordinary liquid might. Instead, it sank into the carved lines as though the stone itself were thirsty, and for one strange moment there was silence, thick and waiting.
Then the circle ignited. Purple light burst outward in a sudden flare, not like fire but like something alive, writhing and folding into itself as though reality had been pinched and twisted by unseen hands. The ground within the ring seemed to soften and ripple, forming a dark aperture that shimmered with unnatural depth, as though the world had been peeled open to reveal something vast and unknowable beneath it.
“You go first, darling,” Umbra said evenly. “Be their reception. I will ensure the others follow.” Her gaze shifted ever so slightly toward Sarah as she said it.
Farah followed that look and gave a small, understanding nod.
“Do not keep me waiting, dearest,” she said lightly, though there was warmth beneath it.
With that, the angel gathered the bundles she could reasonably carry against her chest, stepped to the edge of the roiling light, and leapt without hesitation into the portal. Her wings folded tight around her as she vanished into the violet depths, swallowed whole by the tear in the world.
The youths stood in stunned silence, backpacks slung over their shoulders, their faces illuminated by the shifting glow. Each of them had packed what they thought essential, but Umbra suspected most of it would matter little once she formally sponsored them in her territory.
She turned toward them, folding her arms across her chest.
“Each of you will enter one by one,” she instructed. “I will go last. I recommend that once you are inside the conduit, you curl into the fetal position and close your eyes until you feel solid ground beneath you again. You may disregard this advice at your own risk. You will likely arrive alive regardless, but comfort is not guaranteed.”
That did not reassure them.
A visible hesitation passed through the group.
Umbra tilted her head slightly. “Well? What are you children waiting for?”
That was enough to propel them forward.
Jason, the incubus, stepped up first, swallowing visibly as he approached the churning light. “See you on the other side,” he muttered, attempting bravado, and allowed himself to fall backward into the portal. He vanished instantly.
One by one, the others followed. Emily let out a sharp scream as she tipped forward and disappeared. Harry shouted something incoherent on the way down. Samantha said nothing at all, her face pale and rigid as she stepped in and was consumed by the glow. Samuel, despite not taking part in the Witch’s plans, went in too, hoping to find a new life on the other side.
At last, only Sarah remained.
The vampire lingered near the edge but did not approach.
“Go on,” Umbra said calmly. “Time moves eleven times faster there than it does here. I do not intend to keep my wife waiting longer than necessary.”
Sarah hesitated, then offered a thin, strained smile. “Actually… I think I’ve changed my mind. I prefer Earth. It has certain comforts.”
Umbra did not respond immediately.
Instead, she began to walk toward her at an unhurried pace, armored boots scraping softly against the pavement. A slow smile spread across her face, though there was nothing warm about it.
Sarah’s expression faltered.
“You were never under the Witch’s control, were you?” Umbra asked, her tone conversational.
“Yeah. I mean—no. I was. Of course I was,” Sarah stammered.
“How compelling,” Umbra replied dryly.
Her clawed hand moved so quickly it was almost imperceptible. In the blink of an eye, her fingers had closed around the vampire’s throat, lifting her slightly from the ground. Sarah’s hands flew up instinctively, claws scraping uselessly against Umbra’s gauntlet, but the knight’s grip was immovable.
“My favorite food,” Umbra said quietly, her voice low and deliberate, “is monster meat.”
Sarah’s eyes widened in terror.
“Be good,” Umbra continued, tightening her hold just enough to silence any attempt at speech.
Without further ceremony, she carried the struggling vampire to the edge of the portal and hurled her into the swirling violet light. Sarah vanished instantly, the surface of the tear rippling once before settling again into its steady churn.
With that nuisance addressed, Umbra turned back to the remaining supplies. She gathered the sealed bags of documents and secured the crates to her reinforced pack with practiced efficiency. Her shield locked into place along her arm with a metallic click, and she fastened her spear across her back.
The portal pulsed impatiently.
Umbra cast one final glance at the quiet Earth skyline, at the strange and fleeting chapter of her life that had unfolded there, and then stepped forward.
Without hesitation, she jumped into the light.