The dust has settled, Gatesy’s down, His form lies cold upon the ground. OB stands guard, but fear is near, As shadows stretch, and hope grows sheer. Henry’s heart, a breaking flame, His joy now lost beneath the pain. The laughter fades, his light grows dim, His friend is gone, the world looks grim. With Gatesy fallen, no way ahead, The boy kneels low, his magic bled. But deep within, a spark remains, A power fierce, beyond the pain. With trembling hands, he grasps the air, A force unknown, a final prayer. His magic surges, burning bright, He’ll do what’s needed in this fight. Beside Gatesy, Henry cries, His hands aloft, his heart defies. He knows not how, he knows not why, But something calls him to the sky. With all his might, he casts a plea, For something more, for what could be. His magic drains, the winds stand still, Yet Henry reaches, strong in will. His tears mix with the power inside, Unknowing what, but casting wide. From realms unknown, the earth responds, A power ancient, far beyond. The sky splits wide, the air turns wild, Henry calls, the gods beguiled. For Gatesy’s life, for one last stand, He calls the powers to his hand. He gives his all, his magic fades, Yet in the sky, the light cascades. A force he doesn’t understand, Yet calls it forth, with trembling hand. He knows not who, nor what draws near, But feels a presence strong and clear.