Another attempt. Another murder.
No—attempted murder.
The ballroom was in chaos. Nobles, once dancing and sipping golden wine, were now lined against the gilded walls like criminals. Some stood quietly, eyes cast down. Others shouted, demanding their status be respected.
But Selene heard none of it.
Her world had narrowed to the trembling weight in her arms—her daughter.
Aria's skin was pale as bone. Her lips, once laughing and rosy just moments ago, were now tinged a terrifying blue. She had been dancing. She had been alive.
Now, palace healers scrambled around her, muttering desperate incantations. The scent of incense and panic filled the air. And still, Aria barely breathed.
"Keep her soul anchored!" one priest screamed.
The aura around the child flickered—unstable, golden threads unravelling in the air like spider silk in a storm.
Then the doors slammed open.
Icarus stormed inside. The priests stepped aside at the sight of him—his expression alone was enough to silence gods.
He knelt by Aria without a word, placing one hand over her fading heart. His other hand slid beneath her ribcage, tugging gently at something no one else could see—a thread of shadow wrapped tightly around her soul.
She arched in pain.
Her eyes didn't open, but tears leaked down her cheeks.
"Stop it!" Kaelen's voice cracked with rage and grief.
"I can't," Icarus said, not looking up. "I need to find the source before it takes her completely."
Then—he laughed.
A cold, broken sound that didn't belong in this world.
"Found you…" he whispered.
He released Aria gently, letting the healers resume their desperate efforts.
Outside, the storm rolled.
Selene rose to her feet as Icarus turned, his eyes burning gold.
"I can track him," he said.
That was all they needed.
Moments Later – Outskirts of the Capital
They arrived in a gust of wind and magic. The house stood like a carcass—rotting, filthy, dripping with old blood and rot. Symbols were carved into the ground, reeking of forbidden rites.
The black magician was waiting.
"You came faster than I expected," he hissed, eyes glowing with madness. "But not fast enough to save her."
Selene didn't speak. Neither did Theodore.
Icarus lifted his hand—and the shadows struck first.
The room exploded into chaos.
Chains of darkness rose from the ground, aiming for their hearts. Selene's twin daggers flashed, slicing them mid-air with lethal grace. Theodore summoned his halberd with a snarl, shattering the summoning circle beneath their feet with one swing.
But the magician was no novice. He summoned beasts made of bone and void, hurling curses that clung to the soul. One blast nearly caught Icarus—until a golden shield deflected it at the last second.
They fought like storm gods.
Selene danced between blades of shadow, her strikes elegant and ruthless. Theodore crushed every cursed summon that rose. Icarus flung divine sigils, tearing through barriers, and lighting the air with ancient fire.
The magician screeched, voice breaking with rage. "You think you've won?"
He lunged at Selene—only to find her blade at his throat before he moved an inch.
Blood trickled down.
Selene didn't blink. "What do you want?"
The magician grinned, even as death hovered near.
"Your soul," he rasped.
Selene let out a cold laugh. "Now, who's going to save yours?"
The magician coughed, teeth red. Still, he smiled. "I'll come back. Again. And again. And again. He promised us... eternal."
"Who promised?" Icarus asked sharply, stepping forward.
But the answer never came.
The magician's body contorted violently—and then collapsed. Dead.
The rest of his followers fell moments later, like puppets whose strings had been severed.
A silence followed.
A silence laced with unspoken dread.
Theodore's voice was low. "Icarus... do you think you can find him? The one who gave them that promise?"
Icarus looked at the corpses, then at the blackened sigils still smoking on the floor.
"I will, Your Highness," he said quietly.
He raised his hand—and flames consumed the mansion behind them.
But when they returned to the palace…
Aria was still not breathing on her own.
And the golden glow was fading.
............................................................................
Young God froze, eyes locked on the black mist swirling over Aria's body. His hands moved quickly, typing commands into the translucent console only he could see.
Before he could finish, a voice rang out behind him—calm, quiet, cold.
"What are you doing?"
The Young God stiffened. He didn't need to turn to know who it was. The temperature in the room dropped. Time itself seemed to hesitate.
Heavy footsteps echoed.
"What… did you do?"
YG swallowed hard. "I-I'm sorry, Fate. I made a mistake. I touched the sequence when you were gone. The gamer's soul and Aria's character—" he took a breath, "—they merged. But it's okay! I told her to die so I could reset it. I thought I could just… put her back."
The silence that followed was worse than the scolding he expected.
Then Fate's voice cut through like a blade.
"You what?"
He shoved the Young God aside and pulled up the soul-thread log. His eyes scanned the data in seconds, divine energy crackling around his fingers.
"You absolute fool. If the system already fused their souls—
—then her death won't reset anything.
It'll be final."
The Young God's face went pale.
"But—then she'll—"
"She'll die, for real. The soul will shatter. No respawn. No return. Nothing."
Fate slammed his hand down on the panel. Red lights blared across the interface.
[SYSTEM ALERT — WARNING]
Do NOT die.
Permanent death confirmed. Soul cannot respawn.
The message broadcasted directly into Aria's core.
But… was it too late?