Shadow Wood, Desmond, 10416 P.C.

It had been an hour and Todd hadn't returned. Neither had Annabella or Terrence, and Jessie was nowhere to be found, either. Matthew found himself standing at the front door, looking out into the street. It was deserted. It was as if the entire town had grown silent — did it, too, feel a terrible ache in its chest? Could the people sense the evil coming as he did?

He could feel her as plain as day — she no longer hid. She was coming. Beckoning him. Challenging him.

Come, Asha'inthrii.

It wasn't his name — and yet it was.

It felt as though he stood in a dream. Without a word to those in the house behind him, he stepped out into the daylight, holding one of the swords Phillip had hidden in the closet near the door. The Warmth answered his touch, bleeding into the steel, causing it to glow golden as he stepped out into the street.

She was coming. He met her halfway.

"Hello, little brother," Aniea'athrii said, stopping paces away. She was stunningly beautiful, angelic in her blue gown with the sun glinting off her golden locks. Matthew knew those blue eyes. He had sensed her hatred for him long ago, and he was hardly surprised at what had been hidden behind the veil all this time.

"You were with us all along."

Her sword glowed with Athrii, the tip stained with blood. He tried not to think about what that meant.

"I'm surprised it took you this long to catch on," she commented. "It would have been obvious to any trained Inthriian mind."

He swallowed hard, brushing aside her taunts and the questions her words created in his mind. "Where are Todd and Annabella?"

She slowly shook her head. "Your kind never could stop caring for others. It's what destroyed you all, in the end."

Matthew forced himself to breathe evenly. He raised his golden sword. "Not all."

"Yes, not all." She drew closer, walking right up to the tip of his blade. "For the life of me, I cannot figure out how you could have survived, nor how you're here. They were all dead. Every last one of them wiped from the face of the world. And yet, here you stand, endowed with the strength and power of a thousand men." She tilted her head, looking down at his blade. "I should fear you."

"You should," Matthew agreed firmly, raising the sword to her neck.

She lifted her chin, crimson lips pulling into a smile. "I fear nothing possessing weaknesses. And oh, dear brother, yours are many."

"I don't fear you."

"I don't expect you to." She nodded behind him. "I expect you to fear her."

The flat side of a cold blade kissed the side of his neck. He froze, his mind blanking for a horrible second before it jolted with disbelief and horror.

No...

"Put the sword down, Matthew," Stephanie said softly.

He turned to her slowly, his sword lowering as he stared at her. Her sword remained at his neck, unwavering, a threat he couldn't quite believe. "Steph..."

She pressed her lips together so hard they turned white. "I said, put it down."

"Betrayal cuts deep, doesn't it?" Aniea'athrii murmured behind him.

"Stephanie, don't do this." Sudden panic welled up in his chest as the whole of his situation dawned on him. "Please."

"I'm sorry, Matthew." Her eyes backed the apology, full of sorrow, but she was firm as she motioned to his sword. "Put it down."

He clenched his jaw. "And if I fight?" he asked, tightening his hold on the sword. It glowed a bit brighter, boasting a threat he knew he couldn't — wouldn't — carry out.

"Put it down. No one has to get hurt."

"Is that what they told you?"

"Put the sword down, Matthew!" she yelled, lifting her sword and pricking the side of his jaw. He stepped back quickly, lifting a hand to the wound. His fingers came away bloody.

She saw the blood. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

He dropped his hand, the ache in his chest nearly unbearable, searing with a pain he knew the Warmth couldn't abate. The girl standing before him had been his best friend. He had trusted her, and here she was now, betraying him. Betraying them all. She had known all along, and he had let himself convince himself otherwise.

The worst part was he wouldn't fight her. Aniea'athrii was right: his weaknesses were many, the greatest appearing before him in the form of a traitor.

"Yeah," he whispered. "Me too."

Slowly, Matthew set down his sword and surrendered.