Freeing a million souls was harder than Lee expected.
The first one a child no older than five, her face pressed against the stone, her eyes full of tears took everything he had. The golden light poured out of him in waves, washing over the wall, trying to find the cracks where the soul was trapped.
You're doing it wrong, Onyx Tempest said. You're trying to break the prison. You need to become the prison. Take the soul inside yourself. Carry it. Then release it when you're back in the world above.
"You want me to absorb a million souls?" Lee asked, horrified.
Not absorb. Carry. There's a difference. Absorption consumes. Carrying preserves. You have the capacity for both. You need to choose which one you want to be.
Lee thought about it. About Inyocha, who had consumed souls to gain power. About Amaranth, who had consumed souls to feed its hunger. About the Pilgrim, who had died and been brought back by something that wanted a guide.
He didn't want to be any of those things.
He wanted to be something new. Something different. Something that saved instead of consumed.
"Okay," he said. "Show me how."
The sword guided him. Lee reached out with the golden light, not to break the wall, but to enter it. To become part of the prison, part of the stone, part of the screaming faces.
It was the most painful thing he'd ever experienced.
The souls weren't just trapped. They were angry. They'd been screaming for centuries, and now someone was here, someone who could hear them, someone who could help, and they wanted out. They wanted out now.
Lee felt their rage. Their despair. Their desperation. It washed over him like a tidal wave, threatening to drown him, to sweep him away, to turn him into just another screaming face on the wall.
But he held on.
He held on because of his friends. Because of Kira, who was shouting encouragement from behind him. Because of Taro, who was crying but still standing. Because of Ren, who was watching with those calm, steady eyes.
He held on because of Inyocha, somewhere in the shadows, watching to see if his brother would fail.
And he held on because of a little girl named Elise the Matron's daughter, he realized, a girl who had died in the Rust Sea before Lee was even born, whose soul had been pulled into the Sunken City and trapped for decades.
"You're not alone anymore," Lee whispered to her. "I'm here. I'm going to get you out. I promise."
The little girl's face her screaming, terrified face slowly relaxed.
Then she smiled.
And the wall cracked.
Not broke. Cracked. A single hairline fracture, running from the girl's face to the floor. Through the crack, Lee could see light real light, sunlight, the light of the world above.
"I can't free you all at once," Lee said. "But I can free you one by one. I can carry you out of here. I can give you peace."
The little girl nodded. She understood.
Lee reached out and touched her face.
The golden light surged. The wall shuddered. And then the girl was gone not destroyed, not consumed, but transferred. Lee felt her inside him, a tiny spark of warmth in the ocean of his soul.
"One," he said.
He turned to the next face. And the next. And the next.