[Third Person].
At the same time, a new presence entered the battlefield.
It did not arrive loudly or tear through the chaos with force. But those closest to it felt the shift immediately—a familiarity that did not belong to the war.
Rosalie stepped onto the battlefield. She moved without urgency, yet nothing obstructed her path.
The chaos seemed to part around her out of instinct. Her gaze was fixed ahead, unwavering, as though everything else around her simply did not matter.
And then, she called out, "Estella." Her voice carried weight, enough to cut through the noise, through the fighting, and through everything.
Estella stilled. Her body went rigid for a brief moment. Then, slowly, she turned. For the first time since the war began, something unguarded—shock—flickered across her face.
"…Mother?"
The word came out quieter than anything she had spoken that day.
