"Seal it," she corrected. "The void king cannot be killed. It is hunger-given form, emptiness made real. You can only trap it again. Lock it away where it cannot feed."
"And that requires all seven heaven's edge weapons," David said. "But I only have one."
The elder shook her head slowly. "The original seven weapons were crafted by seven warriors. Each representing a different aspect of humanity. Courage, hope, love, sacrifice, determination, compassion, and defiance. But the truth that was forgotten is this. Those aspects exist in every human. You don't need seven swords. You need seven humans willing to give everything."
David understood then the terrible cost that was about to be asked. "It will kill them."
"Yes," Elder Cirrus said softly. "The ceiling ritual burns through life force like paper in a furnace. The original guardians sacrificed themselves to trap the void king the first time. They knew they would die. They did it anyway."
"Then I'll do it alone," David said firmly. "I'm already bonded to the sword. My life is already forfeit. Let me be enough."
"You can't be," the elder said. "One light, no matter how bright, cannot contain that much darkness. You need others. Six others willing to stand with you until the very end."
David looked out at the battle, at the humans fighting and dying, at Kira commanding a group of warriors on a nearby ship, at Captain Nerra leading civilian volunteers, at all the people who had believed in him when everyone else called him weak. How could he ask them to die?
As if reading his thoughts, Elder Cirrus touched his shoulder. "You won't have to ask. They'll volunteer. That's what humans do."
She was right. When David explained the situation over the fleetwide communication, silence fell. Then voices began speaking. Hundreds of volunteers. Thousands. Every human in the fleet was willing to give their life if it meant stopping the void king. David's vision blurred with tears. These people mocked and belittled throughout the galaxy were ready to sacrifice everything for species that had looked down on them.
In the end, he chose six. Captain Nerra, who had been his friend since they were both young diplomats. A teacher named Grace, who had awakened her power to protect her students. A mechanic called Henry, whose wrench glowed brighter than any plasma torch. A doctor named Lou, who had used his scalpel to save dozens during the outpost attack. A young girl named Sophie, barely 16, whose determination was fierce enough to light up the dark, and a grandfather named Thomas, who said he had lived long enough and wanted his death to matter.
Kira protested violently when she realized she wasn't chosen. "I'm your wife. I should be with you."
"That's exactly why you can't be," David said, holding her close. "I need you to live, Kira. I need you to remember me. To tell our story, to make sure humanity never forgets what they're capable of."
"I don't want to be the one left behind," she whispered, her voice breaking.
"I know," he said, "but someone has to survive to make this sacrifice worth it. Please let it be you."
She kissed him, then fierce and desperate. When they finally broke apart, she pressed her forehead to his. "I'll remember. I'll make sure the whole galaxy remembers that everyone knows the truth about humans, about you."
The seven chosen humans gathered on a small transport ship. David had expected fear or regret, but he saw only determination. They knew what was coming. They chose it anyway.
Roth insisted on piloting them toward the void king. The proud draconian warrior had changed so much since that first day in the ceremony hall. "I mocked you once," he said as they flew into the darkness. "Called you weak. I was the weak one. Too blind to see strength when it wore a different face."
"You see it now," David said. "That's what matters."
The transport entered the void king's presence. Reality bent around them. The ship systems failed one by one. But they didn't need systems. They had something better.
The seven humans stood in a circle, weapons raised. David's sword blazed at the center, but the others weapons glowed just as bright. A pipe wrench, a teacher's ruler, a scalpel, a metal rod, a simple knife, a walking stick. Tools of peace turned into weapons of war by the sheer force of human will.
The void king spoke, its voice making the ship's hull scream. You think seven lights can bind me? I have consumed galaxies, devoured entire realities. What are you but insects before a storm?
"We're human," David said simply. "That's enough."
They struck as one. Seven weapons piercing toward the void king's core. Blue light erupted brighter than stars. The void king roared, thrashing, but the light held it, wrapped around it like chains. David felt the sword drinking his life. Not years anymore, but seconds. He could feel the others fading, too.
Sophie's light dimmed first. She smiled as she disappeared. Her last words a whisper. "Tell my mom I was brave."
Thomas went next. His old body unable to sustain the power. But he laughed as he faded. Actually laughed. "Now that's a way to go."
One by one they fell. Each death made the chains brighter. Each sacrifice bound the void king tighter. Henry, Leu, Grace. Captain Nerra gave David one last nod before she vanished into light.
Then it was just David alone before the void king. The monster was trapped but not sealed. One more death. One more sacrifice: his. But as his life drained away, David felt something unexpected. The humans who had died weren't gone. Not completely. Their light remained woven into the chains. Their will, their determination, their hope. It was still there, still fighting.
And across the galaxy, billions of humans felt it, too. They had awakened to their heritage. They had remembered what they could be. That memory, that awakening fed power into the chains, not life force, but something that transcended individual existence. Collective human defiance.