“Qianye… Qianye…”
The voice beckoned once more. He stirred slightly, trying to open his eyes—but his eyelids felt as though mountains had been pressed on top of them, heavy and impossible to lift. He gasped for air but found his body was breathing in every pore, from the deepest crevices of his soul, though lungs stood still. There was no breath needed, nothing to fear, nothing to lack.
As an ancient array slowly reboots, fragments of sensation gradually seeped inward. Qianye became aware of his form and began to nudge it into subtle reactions—fingers twitching, veins pulsing. Power—relentless waves of power—bloomed beneath his skin, saturating into weary, dormant flesh and igniting its slumbering core.
And at last, he forced his eyes open.
Faced before him was a vast, endless expanse of azure water. Floating upon the surface was a countenance—sharp-eyed as a distant star, a brow lined with celestial elegance—a face Qianye knew all too well.
Nighteye’s countenance overflowed suddenly with elation.
With sluggish, trembling effort, Qianye attempted to rise but could only elevate a frail, quaking arm. As if summoned, however, Nighteye reached out and effortlessly gathered him into her arms from the depth of those tranquil waters.
Dazed and unsteady, he turned in confusion at his surroundings, finally taking in the setting: a tall, decrepit, shadow-laden hall. Its walls bore carvings weathered with eons past, cracked from age and decay. Evident from the erosion in its stonework—they stood within an impossibly ancient sanctum.
Carved into marble were battle epics in full panorama; yet none seemed familiar. Each one depicted scenes not of Qianye’s own world but of some distant realm or parallel domain.
Figures in some of the engravings portrayed unknown entities—not merely grotesque beings but intelligent species in shape, marked by complex battle armor and advanced weaponry, wholly unlike any creature born of feral instinct alone. Their forms, though alien, showed strategy, coordination, and war-torn unity.
These sculptures, though static, mesmerized him with their intensity. He could clearly see battles with bloodline losses so great, entire legions had perished, entwined against their enemies in mutual extinction. Yet through each massacre, standing unwavering at the summit remained the crimson banner of moon and blood.
Since when had our bloodline fought such war?
Qianye turned slowly again, his heart catching at the sight of Nighteye. Though a moment awaited in yearning, he dared not look first—feared her image was another fragile mirage soon vanishing from his reality, the same way so often the Blood River’s visions did.
And yet there she stood—same familiar face, same elegance that made his heart stir.
Tentative and tender, he reached out but found his need greater—instead wrapping both arms tight to crush her against his chest. Eyes closed. Smell inhaled. A fragrance once lost but now familiar again filled him.
Long did a breathless silence hang… finally interrupted by Nighteye’s soft smile.
“Aren’t you going to set me down?” she murmured lightly.
At that moment, the sensation flooded over Qianye. Indeed—the embrace of her arms had held him. He was cradled, like something fragile in a maiden’s arms. Chiding himself for the embarrassment blooming through his chest, Qianye leaped from her grip with sudden effort—but stumbled immediately in weakness. His legs crumpled beneath his weight, barely averting his fall.
But just before he smote face-first into that marble beneath him, he willed inwardly from sheer reflex. Then—miraculous—a strange pulse welled from his depths, surging with an energy unseen… and lifting his form into sudden equilibrium.
Standing there, upright yet baffled, Qianye struggled to locate its source. Not from dawnlight, nor duskshadow, nor any intermediate blend known as gray energy. Nothing recognized.
Yet the moment he stood… gone. It was gone like a dream long lingering after one awakes.
His body—his perfected silhouette—remained as it was, flawless. Yet it was entirely unclothed.
Instinctively attempting to cover himself met only with Nighteye’s knowing chuckle.
“You’re shy now?” laughter lilting, a tease that coiled into his embarrassment.
Eyes crimson as spilled dawn, he hesitated with a muffled groan and finally asked, “My—my clothing… where?”
“Past tatters now. Thrown to wind. New attire waits nearby.”
Qianye rose again cautiously and turned. He was still standing at the edge of the water—an aquamarine pool of limited circumference, just big enough to contain a handful of reclining figures, half-filled with softly glistening pale-green stillness. A single gaze granted peace unlike worldly air.
“This is the Azure Lord’s sacred chamber—and this here is the Primordial Azure Pool. Originally it served him a resting haven, yet for your rebirth all blood energy stored has now drained.”
The name struck something akin to awe.
“Yet how then shall the Azure Lord slumber?”
“A debt owed to him from I remain. One day—it’ll be repaid.”
Qianye’s brows narrowed at this thought. The ancient chamber before him showed unmistakable architecture predating time by at least ten thousands’ age. Power gathered in this pool would not return quickly, and blood-sleep directly impacted a Vampire’s longevity—if anything, perhaps the greatest treasure of kindred. Who could repay this easily?
Yet she continued simply—as if it needed to be stated no differently:
“Given and done. Whatever is needed, you and I, we’ll repay together.”
Her eyes shone with unyielding resolve.
And slowly from within… Qianye found the courage to nod, “Then yes.”
Nighteye moved in again swiftly, drawing him into a sudden and fierce clasp—as tightly as stars locked against midnight sky.
Soft breath tickled his ear, barely perceptible words threading:
“For a time, I thought I had lost you… Without the Azure Lord’s gift—I dread that possibility now.”
“I am awake again.”
Nighteye pulled back slightly from within him. The moisture in her cheeks vanished into silence.
“Promise me from now on… no more such reckless sacrifices.”
A vow given without demand.
Qianye offered nothing—simply nodded again.
With shared smiles and hearts steadied, Qianye felt—after such darkness, in this moment—he could not deny—once more the taste of a world reborn.
Garments were already waiting upon wooden racks. Within was an entire suite of wear from inner to outer. Dressing himself with slow care, Qianye tilted at the mirror beside. His image was immaculate—an exemplar of his kind—each curling detail matching even rigid aristocrat aesthetics, an elegant drape upon form. At his side again stood his celestial counterpart.
Elegance befitting only blood nobility. Qianye, despite mild discomfort with the ornamental opulence of traditional attire, wore it with pride. Their hand entwining, together they proceeded outwards from the sanctum’s interior where kneeling upon one side bowed servile entities.
The attendants before bowed in age-old reverence, honoring the ancient rite once carried by the Blood River alone. Qianye’s familiarity allowed swift ease with the grand salute.
He stared at them, startled—never anticipating this. Yet Nighteye beside offered only one word:
“Amongst your final trial’s culmination, you claimed dominance over all bloodkind kin.”
Qianye gave up further questions and merely accepted.
Together the regal pair passed marble halls, arriving finally beneath the open sky. The garden was untouched beauty. No hand disturbed; every tree, grass—formed from earth’s breath. Peaks lingered in distant vision as if suspended across an eternity painted into canvas. From the open space within, standing upon that stage—loomed an imposing silhouette: the Azure Lord.
His presence was undeniable. Upon sight alone Nighteye’s expression wavered—some hidden conflict reflected beneath a gaze unspoken.
A gentle hush as she approached Qianye.
“Wont you wait with us while he and I speak?”
“Of course.”
The layout embraced both concealment and elegance—the other end opened at a cliffside view, mountains rising, fog drifting lazily across valleys.
There the Azure Lord and Nighteye arrived side by side.
“You have my gratitude.”
With a soft, knowing smile, he returned:
“What is one pool and slumber denied? Our destinies intertwined with strange artifacts, strange timing—and in man’s tongue, what do they term it?”
“…Fate?” she whispered softly but uncertain.
“Indeed.”
Nighteye’s brows furrowed lightly.
“Still. Without that blood, you will be unable to hibernate for years.”
“I have dwelled across time so immense it’s become weightless to me.”
“Don’t speak so carelessly.” Regret in her tone.
A soft chuckle.
“You seem to prefer the days we knew, back in the first ages. Although even then, you still—”
“I’ve not many memories remaining of that era, if any,” she interrupted.
He smiled knowingly.
“Do not mourn. The girl who lived and that of the time that is… they both carry the same reflection. Yet I haven’t changed a single shade of self. And with the tides still turning as they always have—you shall awaken once more… and the same choice will lie as it did before.”
Her voice lowered with uncertainty and guilt:
“But I owe you too many burdens… debts impossible to repay.”
“And all of it willingly paid. You will find no guilt from my hand, no resentment in my name for any of it.”
There came a brief silence between souls.
Then the Azure Lord shifted.
“Let me ask something more… weightier.”
He met her gaze directly:
“Will you take upon yourself greater duty now? Responsibilities you once refused?”
Nighteye hesitated, visibly so.
“Will you hesitate, knowing you now call someone truly bloodline kin?”
A pause. Then slowly,
“No, not hesitate… though… no decision to take alone.”
“Then rest assured. Your reluctance will be honored—for now, perhaps forever. You may keep the choice free.”
Then came something that struck as unease in the air, invisible threads shifting beneath his gaze.
“Something comes.”
He didn’t nod but watched distant peaks.
Suddenly in the valley beyond—a brilliant flare exploded. Fire leapt towards sky in crimson streaks twisting into the familiar sigil of a bloodmoon, its form howling pain and omen.
“An alert? Someone’s discovered this hidden sanctuary?”
He barely concealed astonishment.
The Azure Lord, undisturbed:
“All secrets dissolve to light, eventually. It matters not. You take him and flee. Buy me mere heartbeats—then follow him and remain hidden.”
“You cannot drive the blade alone? We fought together, once. There’s no law that says we must stand apart again.”
A faint glimmer touched his gaze:
“We were but fledglings at the dawn of a prior age, full of fire and hunger. Now the wheel has come another rotation… yet I feel… different. This is a battle that even you—a being not fully recovered in might—ought not to face.”
“What are they?”
“Not something meant to be known now. Should fate decree it so—you’ll meet eyes under starless skies regardless.”
“Why withhold from knowledge that may serve?”
A flick of wind stirred.
“Perhaps suspicion proves untrue. Besides—if we named one enemy today—we might well meet unforeseen adversaries tomorrow.”
At that moment, a second explosion burst from across skies… now bearing an addition to its warning:
Not of our kind.
That realization made night even darker within Nighteye. It was not just another blood rival approaching but—foreigners.
Worse yet: a second signal. So close that its launch point sat just upon the valley’s fringes.
These sentries were of their own design—yet how had an invader silenced them so swiftly?
Nighteye’s expression turned even grimmer.
Yet the Azure Lord merely smiled.
“No matter… you and I both remember the old days. None rivaled our kind as once we were. Even now, none will dare cross beyond that. Let the pool spend its life for Qianye—that place now holds my strength no more. What meaning remains here?”
“You must know, then… who sends their hand against you.”
The Azure Lord peered off into distance as if scenting something.
“They have finally come.”
His eyes darkened—swirling crimson. His silent signal surged along the hidden veins of the Blood’s inheritance—the unseen whisper passed through the very Blood River itself—a ripple echoing across vast distances.
Nighteye too caught echo against the current—the pulse a declaration of calling.
Reassurance arrived at heart, though concern remained. Just what force was he summoning for aid if the Azure King found necessity compelling?
The answer came swiftly.
Responses bloomed in the river’s reflection—two echoes in return.
One, from the Lightless King, Medenzher. The other, from the Crowned Flame, Habrus.
Yet while one approached closely—Habrus, despite might, lingered distant like thunder far in mountains’ cradle—arriving beyond this war.
The voice of Azure descended calm against her:
“It is time to vanish, and leave Qianye from harm—those arriving are not seeking war against me alone… they hunt him. His blood is worth a continent.”
Faltering, she gave him one meaningful look, “Remain standing.”
He chuckled faintly, “The dawn holds mysteries… I wish to glimpse what is yet to come.”
Few survive even the distant ripples of ancient Lords clashing—the realm of the dread battlefield belongs solely to Monarch-level bloodlords. Dukes stand a chance at endurance; Earls struggle to survive a gust in its wake.
While Nighteye now barely reached the level of a vice-duke—and even if battle were hers to partake—Qianye, having woken barely anew from stasis, remained delicate as newborn life. Each tremulous disturbance might bring an end.
Gentle hesitations in farewell passed between their eyes.
Nighteye turned, making her way toward his slumbering shell. From seemingly thin air, the Lord placed into her hand a crystalline object. A final whisper drifted from his lips.
“Use it. It sees you both safely on your way.”
It was no common stone.
A sea-turquoise gem, luminous from within, laced in delicate runological filigrees that pulsed with power enough to make hairs dance upright at their charge. A single crystal humming with energy enough to shift stars’ gravity. Yet given so casually, so effortlessly. A rare tool of escape or transport—one that could even shift matter across realms.
She held it—heart stirring unease.
But then… though he neared nearing dusk on life’s candle, back at that great succession, the Azure Lord had wielded dominance unrivaled among bloodkind save against the Eldertier—monarch equals.
Even in old age—his strength remains an unfathomable mystery—soon to ally in Medenzher as second aid.
And still… Nighteye could not shake feeling something ominous. Qianye’s weakness, she knew well… And if his return to breath was more than an anomaly… she feared something greater sought him—his revival perhaps… had torn veil.
With her awakened foresight, Nighteye understood. Their opponent’s arrival was no random incursion. It targeted Qianye.
“Could it again be… those humans?”
Gritting her resolve, Nighteye activated the sapphire gem.
Yet the next instant—suddenness tore the peace to violent eruption.
The sky erupted from the core’s power. A monstrous emerald pulse expanded like the breath of a god shattering all it touched. Trees—rocks—it swept all like autumn leaves caught in an unchained wind.
Before destruction had finished clearing the space, Qianye felt a surge wrap him in green luminescent glow—and before either could grasp it—they hurtled upward at terrifying speeds—over a thousand meters into the air, as if fired from bow.
A second wave burst behind the first—another pulse.
This one slingshotted Qianye and Nighteye kilometers further beyond in an eye’s flutter.
Third pulse. Fourth…
The green rings detonate one by one. With every blast—distances measured in leagues. From miles—tended in kilometers… until final thrust sent the duo beyond ten thousand meters.
Then beyond even this, the green arcs no longer just flinching away but suddenly shifting course. Zigs. Zags. Loops and unpredictable turns that turned simple fleeing into maze-works, impossibly tracked.
So swift in flight that they’d all but vanished from sight… so rapidly that not even the Voidsteps rival it…
Before she even could whisper a curse in awe at their velocity… they’d arrived.
An entirely new dimension. Warm sunlight. Birdsong filling the air like song and dance.
The duo descended toward a hidden paradise. Wooden structures nestled beneath towering canopy with quiet grace—not luxury… but charm in simplicity’s line. Opposite it—a single stone temple… modest, yet bearing design worthy of artisanship of yore.
The descent softened by the crystal’s magic as they landed upon soft, spring-carved soil before the dwelling. The jade glows of the teleport receded until all trace dissolved into ether.
From moment zero to a breathless second… this world awakened. The dwelling stirred to life—lamps lit themselves without command. Shelves filled with books, storage drawers brimmed with provisions, even a water-welling spring in the courtyard reawakened.
At the stone chamber in the center of the area—an enchanted pool of the same Azure kind now began re-filling itself at slow, deliberate paces via the fountain from beast-headed stone mouths. The pool’s filling ceased when it just reached depth to fully submerge a body.
Silently and effortlessly, all surrounding space shimmered in response. A hidden field—undetectable to any short of divination—spread outward to cloak all that lay within.
This barrier—though unimpressive upon inspection—was powerful beyond imagination. Perhaps even invisible to the eyes of Princes as they hovered directly overhead.
But Nighteye—once she saw this arrangement… she felt it too. Her heart trembled. Qianye—though he remained silent—their shared thought was the same.
This hidden abode is unlike any sanctuary.
Every corner was not a matter of whim but careful planning. Every element bore meticulous attention to function.
The barrier—capable of eluding even ancient monarchs—hinted at work of unparalleled design.
And the pool, though small, still held the very purpose for which the Azure Lord prepared.
These… were meant for his final escape. A final hidden pocket—where not even fate might find.
And yet—this crystal he gave them now could, at a mere thought, summon them here, as effortlessly as turning pages at library’s bench.
The worth of it… priceless. Beyond even legendary relics. It could even rival divine weaponry… and still, he passed it freely to the two hands.
As though he foreseen.
Despite this—Nighteye attempted calm. Her fingers grazed Qianye’s temple softly.
“This pool’s waters still remain untouched. Reclaim the strength. Heal completely.”
But a strange flicker passed in Qianye’s face.
“Wait…” his voice barely more than whisper, tingling with discomfort. “This… my body feels different.”
“Do not ponder such yet. Recovery is first.”
She knelt softly beside him, guiding—but also pushing—into those waters once again.
Submersion.
Within seconds… Qianye was engulfed in exhaustion beyond his control. The weariness swallowed him in a current far mightier than the body’s own power. He drifted off as if sinking beneath deep ocean.
Seeing the breath of his quiet sleep, Nighteye stood once more.
Gently she closed the stone chamber and exited. She placed herself upon an outdoor carved-rock perch. Her gaze drifted but never wandered—staying distant… and growing increasingly somber, heart clenched tight like vine grasping a thorn’s wound.
Inside… something felt terribly awry.
Back in the sanctum, footsteps returned: entering into audience before darkened thrones.
The Emperor approached the table—an intricate celestial device, shaped from obsidian and etched with the constellations of countless ages beyond mortal comprehension. Not forged in metal, these components—though crafted—bore stone’s essence. Yet the textures… luscent, reflecting eerie luminescence unseen even in gemstone. Comparable only perhaps to blackened gemstones used in artifacts fashioned by the multilimbed race of the New Dawn Era. Only these had surfaces that loured this eerily smooth.
Rotating. Moving as though the sky’s own fabric had solidified into spinning mechanisms.
This was no ordinary globe.
It was the living architecture of cosmos itself.
An intricate dance between planets, stars… miniature continents drifting as though guided by sentient hands in orbit. And black lines binding all—an energy not of magic or force, but raw material akin to Malign Essence. Dark, but refined—so refined only Emperors dared to study directly for long.
An intricate, mesmerizing, ancient design… that still captivated its onlooker despite repeated viewings. Even now—Emperor Wen’an and Pritel-Dek’s breath caught within chest’s chamber in mutual admiration… as was their ritual, upon any meeting.
A simple phrase broke silence.
“You have returned.”
Then everything vanished—into blackness.
Black that wasn’t oppressive but strangely uplifting. Unlike the dark洗礼 that drained warmth, this blackness… elevated. Lightened the form—like being unshackled and weightless.
“You do recall, my travels… the destination of my last pilgrimage… the legendary Asteroid Belt, upon the peak that divides reality. The highest known to exist in existence.”
That singular simple uttering… sent waves that crashed against their psyche. A single sentence, a single declaration.
Stimulated. Surprised. Revered.
Even monarchs among the races could only dare approach those outer spheres. And only legends whispered that some did. There were those who attempted—rivals for godhood. Some even succeeded in part. A few were recorded as missing after reaching such forbidden heights, none ever revealing what lay beyond but only hints of the unmentionable.
The strongest proof remained that only one—Lilith the Midnight’s Veil—had returned.
Yet it was the single deed by which she ascended to absolute apex over all others of the Eternal Darkness. All other Monarch’s challenges fell beneath that feat of ascension.
The Emperor’s whisper turned into a sermon:
“I found not only beauty in creation but a second sky—a mirror reality’s celestial expanse more gorgeous than anything known, one that made language meaningless when measured against reality’s breath.”
The moment those words were spoken—he revealed truths never recorded. Not written in histories. Not spoken across centuries.
“I stood one threshold beyond transcendence and—just as I was to cross through—I paused.”
He paused in speech—waiting as surroundings around the two began morphing… reshaping.
Worlds re-forging into image. Darkness re-defined into meaning.
Darkness of this other world teetered not on emptiness… but life. Two black suns blazed over endless expanses of the land. Their shadows were not lightless. They poured radiance—a radiance of a dark nature—but life-bestowing.
Dark grass rustled gently beneath dark winds. Stone pulsed with vitality. Water danced with unseen music.
The creatures here weren’t predators lurking or parasites seeking blood; they harvested and lived in harmony with all around.
A harmony not imposed, but mutual. Each creature’s movement resonated with its surroundings—satisfying itself and in return… enriching the land further.
The entire expanse: breathing, vibrant. Alive in ways none other than dark-aligned minds could comprehend.
Then—change came as a spark across water’s hushed serenity…
Not violence at the moment. Yet a ripple began.
From some distant locale—there appeared first a pinpoint spot—the start of something unnatural… a disturbance that radiated. That warped what it met in waves. Darkness began to falter where this distortion spread outward.
And finally—it faded in the wake it carved.
But… not fully. Something lingered… like stains.
A being rose from the heart of the wound in reality—an unfamiliar figure. Its shape dark… but not pure. It stood on unstable limbs. Not knowing purpose nor path, it staggered forward… leaving behind a trail—a streak of gray where no shade should’ve touched.
Long passed… he vanished from sight. His presence forgotten by all save for what he had done… by what had stained.
Some time passed—before beings of similar lineage discovered the marks but failed to identify the anomaly of this trail. They danced. They gathered essence as always—even touching the pale.
And so corruption… spread further.
Through bodies unknowing—it wormed outward like virus into the very veins of land. The infection grew. The once-dark world’s hue gradually faded… until the darkness bore tinge… then became white.
This process replayed itself across many domains… again … and again.
The mark arrived as though a wound upon eternity.
The people reacted.
They tried cleansing. Running—some screaming, others silent.
Yet those corrupted saw them. The corrupted moved through their forms. The two races saw no more the truth between their own kind and enemy.
And what could be tried… could do very little. The corruption, left unchecked, grew—bit by relentless bit.
In time… the entire darkness… began to change.
It became… subtly—unmistakably… lighter than it had been. Only by a small, minuscule percentage at onset… something many would disregard as atmospheric effect.
But not the enlightened. Among those sensitive to the balance—something within had fractured—gone wrong irrevocable.
Then, finally… an incident.
In one corrupted location so infected by the spreading pale, an observer witnessed something beyond his ability to comprehend—walls cracked; entire areas destabilizing.
Reality warped. Rules twisted… and the once harmonious essence fractured under the weight of chaos.
One resident, witnessing all, attempted retreat. He fled. Soared skyward, hoping speed might allow survival.
But brilliance erupted around him like wildfire.
The light, swift as time devouring youth, consumed the dark man whole.
Then—long after silence—something emerged from that consuming brilliance.
A copy of him.
No longer one of the dark but an entity of transparency—one made from brilliant glass-light and clarity.
With no hesitation and only mechanical motion, it stepped forward once more.
It remembered… the way to his home? His tribe’s direction? No way of telling.
Regardless. Toward villages it strode.
As it crossed entry threshold of such—a single moment.
A flash.
The village… exploded upward like flame consuming kindle in a breath.
And silence fell.
Still. Yet the change remained.
The Emperor halted all with a single gesture—and dark harmony resumed.
No ripple… no pulse.
Night and absence returned in its entirety. The realm’s blackness once more blanketed with the void’s serenity.
Wen’an and Dek were trembling as if they’d survived an apocalyptic deluge. Their bodies drenched despite absence of water; their clothes clung… heartbeats pounding like wardrum’s beat against a battlefield’s heart.
And yet amidst that stillness—they could hear his voice. As though arriving from somewhere outside.
“You’ve both seen alternate tomorrows of what is inevitable… all share the same destination… extinction.”
“Behold now—the truth. The source that once sustained us—its essence—long corrupted by forces beyond our control. Our foundation is rot. Our citizens mutate.”
“Countless generations struggled, our ancestors devoted—desperate to halt decay… and yet we still lost—sight, memory of who our ancestors were and the inheritance left by those before.”
He paused—a silence heavier than weight of sky.
“In every race’s mythologies there exists stories of powerful figures who reach the summit… the world’s edge…”
His gaze lifted as certainty rang in voice:
“And it exists beyond—a boundary… other realms where the strong can move, can reach escape from this dying domain of ours. But—can our people follow?”
Wen’an spoke before silence thickened.
“Twelve-thousand years ago during the Dusk Wars…”
His voice… quivering with uncontained weight behind the words.
“The world was weeping. Already at that time, the very Dark Soul—the core from which all was derived—was at critical imbalance.”
The Emperor’s calm echoed across space.
“The Council anticipated… and have at last seized their final window. Our source no longer holds self-restoration… even over millennia’s stretch.”
“But… within the heart of this reborn world—within lies a hope we’ve never yet discovered.”
They fell speechless—yet knowledge ignited between the two.
Not only were they old—no. They were key bearers within the great stratagem of this realm.
Secret projects—hidden even deeper than political maneuverings… were theirs now to know.
And now the final meaning to their summons was no longer abstract. It made sense—why they were granted audience to this knowledge.
“I too hold honor for great power.”
The Emperor’s voice was firm.
“There on the journey after returning from the Peak, I traveled through the Jewel City Kumerati. And there—it was I made my mistake…”
He glanced at the two.
“I met Lin Xitang. A formidable war-souled enemy—whose merit demanded the highest degree of respect…”
“There was someone who once reminded me… during that time… Pratel-Dek included his name within the Dawn Empire’s Black List—the list containing those they considered highest threats among Nightborn…”
He smiled then… in quiet self-reproach.
“But see how foolish an overconfidence blinded me… how grave a fault I committed.”
The chamber fell heavy under his mourned breath—deep as a sorrow that originated from an immeasurably endless void between stars.
“When the sky cracks. When all burns—maybe… even we… can seek refuge somewhere beyond…”
He paused, voice soft.
“But what of the rest? Our kin. Our very Source, who gave us origin and life?”
They met eyes again. A deep, final understanding passed between souls.
And in one breath’s time… vanished. The hall stood empty.
Silent beneath sunlight warm on pale stone and grass.
And who remains behind… to listen in quiet… when the fabric cries, world weeps?
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