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Siege leaps up.

The edges of the Stone of the Sword cut her palm and slip away. The Originium mountain quakes, almost flinging her from it.

Just one step. One step further. One more miracle—

The knight who was Victoria never forgot his duty. He streaked across the sky, picking up the golden lion who held the Realmblade.

A dull sound came from the bloodied suit of armor.

'Glorious—Victoria!'

The Stone lies just ahead.

The waves of Originium rise and fall. Countless crystal shards surround her.

But the one in the eye of the storm will not waver, not anymore.

For the Glasgow Gang.

For Londinium.

For all who died.

And for all who live!

The golden lion roars at the storm.

The Sighs of Kings plunges down.

Sword and its Stone become one.

There is an explosion of golden light.

It falls on the crystals, and on her, shining towards heaven and earth.

The golden radiance pierces the red demonic eye, tearing a hole in the curtain of death above.

A miracle has happened. A legend has returned.

The hero's sword cleaved through Catastrophe, bringing golden hope that fell upon the eyes of every Victorian on the battlefield.

Londinium will yield to no storm.

As long as they have the Sighs of Kings, there is no foe they cannot overcome.

'Victoria!'

'Victoria!'

'The Exemplars! The Exemplars!'

'Vina! Vina!'

The cries form a great wave, lifting up the exhausted hero.

Siege looks up at the Sighs of Kings.

The sword in its Stone looks entirely ordinary, as though it was no more than a key.

She knows, more than ever, that the sword has never granted anyone power, nor has she suddenly become one of the heroes of legend.

She stands here now because of the countless eyes that have witnessed her, the countless hands that have lifted her up.