Chaos erupted, but it was a righteous fury. The people, seeing the Duke’s crimes laid bare by the very mask he wore, rose up. The guards, realizing the truth of their leader’s malice, lowered their weapons.

Elana stood before the crowd, unmasked, her face scarred but her eyes resolute. "We do not need to hide anymore," she declared. "We build, we live, and we define our own truth."

The Duke was exiled, banished to the very depths he had hoped to drown the city in. The walls of the dam were secured by the engineers, and the Council of the People was formed. In the new Arcadia, masks became a choice—a relic of the past, rather than a shackle of the present.