"Thank you, Yuria." Myr says as her phantom fades from his world. He turns to the carcass of the Soul of Cinder and holds his hand out to it. A small yet potent soul begins leaving the body and gathers in Myrs palm.

"I've been waiting for this moment for a long time." He says to the every being that resides in this soul. "I think only you, Lord Gwyn, can appreciate how long I've waited." The Lord of Sunshine's form appears briefly within the soul. Looking so very tired and worn down.

Myr collapses to his knees, his wounds and burns still fresh from the fight against this amalgam of Lords of Cinder. Myr's left arm, holding the precious soul, burnt to a near black crisp. A gaping hole where the Soul of Cinders blade ran through his gut. His right arm nearly torn off by crystal magic. His lower legs showing exposed burnt bone from a fireball.

Myr reaches for his estus flask only to see barely a drop left. "No matter, when I'm done here these injuries wont be an issue anymore."

Dragging himself by his burnt arm and kicking with what's left of his legs, myr lands next to final bonfire he'll ever see. He brings out the fading Soul and coddles it for a moment. Almost like saying goodbye to a part of his life. "The Age of Fire and the Age of Dark will be no more after this. The Age of Mankind shall rise from their ashes."