They're going to make at least one more stop - no, two, surely they'll need both Iftel and Karse to meet their numbers - but after this, Foundation will able to just eat the power released without needing it channeled, apparently, which makes the Silmarils less additionally useful. 

:I think so: 

Just - missing everyone, you know. He takes the Silmarils and heads over to the Gate.

Telumë walks across, still glowing and moving a bit like a stick puppet. They leave the crystal focus behind; it's not the main place where the god lives, anymore. 

They are in a forest, some of which has been very hastily cleared. It's packed with terrified people, interspersed with Tayledras trying to reassure them. The trees are twisted and strange. 

I need to talk to somebody who can speak for Rethwellan, Foundation says. 

"I, um, I think they lost their entire government when Petras went down..." Vanyel glances around, trying to find faces that look more Rethwellani than Valdemaran. "Hey! You!" 

"...Yes?" The man who comes forward is dressed like a merchant, not especially wealthy but not poor either. 

What is your name.

"It's, um, Jadran." 

Jadran. I will ask you to speak on behalf of your country, since there remain no others better suited. We are losing a war with an evil god from another world. In order to fight back, we need more strength then we have. The only path to have this is blood-magic. I ask your consent for the people of Rethwellan to be included in this sacrifice. I know it is a very large thing to ask. You will return to life afterward, we have arranged this, but it may take a long time.

Jadran looks so upset! He bites his lip and blinks helplessly for a while. 

"...I, er, I mean, we're going to die anyway. Aren't we. Or - worse." Rumours of Vkandis' rule in what was formerly Valdemar, alongside - someone or something else - didn't fail to reach Rethwellan. "So - if we can die now to stop that, then I think we should." 

Thank you. This will not be forgotten.

Foundation turns to face one of the Tayledras. Did you have a plan here. 

"Some stacked Final Strikes," the man he's addressing says. "...Now? We can pass word to our mages..." 

Foundation looks at Vanyel and Fëanáro. Are you ready. 

No, it doesn't seem possible that in a thousand years he could be ready for this. "Yes," Vanyel says out loud. 

"Yes."

And about three hundred and fifty thousand people die, everyone from a major city or town in Rethwellan or Valdemar who was able to reach one of the Gates in time. 

It takes less than fifteen minutes. Which shouldn't be possible, really. 

It's not a huge additional amount of power, but it adds a third again to Foundation's current strength. 

The Heartstone. Telumë's body turns to face it. This, we can do more quickly. 

Vanyel does some quick mental math. The original Heartstone network contained roughly two million human lives' worth of excess energy that could be drained off. Now, with the life-energies of everyone in and near Petras and everyone in Jkatha as well, it probably has another two million lives' worth sloshing around. This is going to make Foundation a lot stronger, very quickly. 

...It would be awfully inconvenient if it killed Telumë, but at this point, they could probably do the rest without him. His god exists. Likely Vanyel himself could be possessed instead and act as a mouthpiece. 

:Now: he tells Fëanáro. 

He stops his heart. He was worried about this part but has since warmed up to Mandos. The Silmarils can do the rest themselves.

Vanyel was needed during the last part, to channel energy, but the Heartstones are basically doing it themselves now, feeding it into Foundation - who isn't really located in Telumë, but mostly outside of ordinary space entirely - he can feel it moving and transmuting and then seeming to vanish. 

It goes at a steeply accelerating rate as the god grows stronger, able to absorb the power faster. All told it takes about ten minutes. 

It hasn't been long at all, really, since Karis tumbled through a Gate. Less than an hour. 

She was close to the Palace, though. She's not sure if Vkandis passed a message or what, but nobody stopped her on her frantic sprint there. 

She holds her daughter. Strokes her hair. Sings to her, softly, a Karsite lullaby that she remembers her own mother singing. 

She's pretty sure she knows what's going to happen. She isn't afraid. She can wish, sort of wistfully, that something in the last year went differently, but she's too tired and drained and empty for there to be any anger left.

Maybe Vanyel will come back for her... No, that's not a stop he can really justify, not at this point. At least she got to see Arven one more time. 

She holds her daughter and sings, and waits. 

They Gate to the Ifteli border, leaving behind most of Telumë's mages to help the Tayledras clean up. 

(Telumë is conscious in flickers, though he's not particularly in control of his own body. He's not very fond of that part but it seems worth it, now, and - it's not like he really wants to witness and remember perfectly everything that they're doing right now. Though it feels a bit like cowardice, that. Vanyel is going to remember it.) 

Foundation moves Telumë's body right up to the shield-barrier. They're on a major road and there are some extremely worried-looking priests on the other side. 

We are fighting a desperate war, he says. I have the permission of the god to use your people's lives to help win it. I wish to ask the permission of a mortal who can speak for your people as well.