She feels Oryx's true death in both halves of her soul, a full imagined exhale before the aftershock reaches his throne world. It crumbles around her like stone, like ash, like veils in a breeze. Eris Morn's friends have succeeded. The Guardians have slain a god. She steps through the ruins. In the end, there is nothing. Nothing but Mara Sov and the howling of rampant, untamed logics. Her great and terrible gamble has paid off. The rest is up to her now.