Juggernaut exhaled, his arms falling to his sides. "She thought justice was enough. That it could stand alone. But justice without strength is a dream... and strength without justice is tyranny. She understands now."
The Oracle tilted its head. "Does she?"
For a long moment, Juggernaut did not answer. His gaze lingered on Xerosis, watching her brow twitch in restless dreams. Even in slumber, the battle had not left her.
"She will."
The Oracle turned its gaze back to the great tree, tracing a hand over its ancient bark. "Then let us see if she has the will to claim it."
The wind stirred. The leaves blew by.
And beneath the roots of the great tree, Xerosis dreamed of the path she was about to take.
Beneath the ancient tree, wrapped in the warmth of the sacred earth, Xerosis drifted into a dream—a dream that felt more like a vision, painted in shades of prophecy and doubt.