I can not…
…Too many of them…I am at my limit…
Sweat, streaked with dark red blood, slipped from her chin and spattered on the ground—a sight unthinkable for one such as her. One hand clung desperately to her sword, the blade's tip trembling just above the dirt. The other held a translucent golden shield, its white light flickering with a heartbeat-like pulse… but already fading.
...Maya is around here, I have to get to her…
Her breathing was labored, like a mortal running out of breath at the end of their life.
Since the first star had risen in the heavens, she had never known exhaustion or pain. Now, both crushed her. She felt hollow, reduced to a mere construct. Her divine body dragged her down; the once-gleaming armor she had worn with pride was fractured, flaking away in jagged shards. Across her chest, deep gouges—marks from four massive hooves—scarred the metal.
She could not ignore the excruciating pain lodged in several parts of her body. Her regeneration technique had stopped working fifty years ago and her divine energy was beginning to show symptoms of extinguishing.
War had come with every turning of the cosmic age, and each time they had stood victorious, safeguarding the breath of the universe itself. It was written into the fabric of destiny. Millennia ago, they had driven the enemy back. Millennia before that, they had done the same. Always, the outcome was certain.
So why… was this different?
The sword in her left hand was the same that had once cut down an enemy commander and lifted high in triumph. Forged from the molten shards of the first star, it was the mightiest weapon ever wrought—its edge could shear through suns. Nothing, in all of creation, could withstand its strike.
And yet now… its power felt hollow in her grasp.
Krak… Krak…
A creature came and crawled forward—fiery red eyes burning in the dark, four elongated limbs pulling its twisted frame across the ground. Its mouth stretched into a disturbingly human grin, fangs glistening as smoke curled from between them. A whip-like tail lashed behind it, tipped with two sets of jagged spikes. On its back, a grotesque pair of wings—part demon, part bat—twitched in anticipation.
The holy knight glanced over her shoulder, her face tight with fatigue and upset. Eighty years ago, when the invaders arrived, these abominations had stunned them all. No one knew their origin, their world, or their maker. They were fast—too fast—and impervious to divine light, as though forged to be its perfect antithesis.
Krak… Krak…
The creature tilted its head, joints cracking in a slow, deliberate rhythm. Then—without warning—it lunged, a blur of black limbs and gnashing fangs, claws spread wide for the kill.
It was impossible for her to avoid it at this stage. She was no longer as fast as her normal self, her shoulder still displaced from the last battle's brutal blow.
Sriiing!
Her luminous blue eyes, with constellations moving slowly within, shot a piercing glare at the entity. Her gaze struck like a blade. The creature froze mid-leap, as though seized by an unseen grip. Black flesh began to split, thin cracks spreading like drought across parched ground. With a soundless shatter, its body dissolved into ash, scattering into the wind.
The woman sank to her knees, blood spilling fresh from the corners of her lips. The warmth of her divine energy was ebbing—slipping away with every breath.
Is this where it ends?
A cough wracked her chest, dark blood splattering the ground before her. The sword slipped from her grasp, falling to the dirt with the lifeless weight of a slain warrior.
When she lifted her gaze once more, the constellations in her eyes were gone.
She saw nothing but ruin—destruction steeped in malice. Once, she had strolled these streets beneath towers so majestic and unyielding that a newcomer might have whispered, "Do they hold up the very sky?" Their peaks vanished into the clouds, their walls gleaming white as sunlight on snow. Now, they lay shattered—splintered like brittle sticks in a storm.
In those days, the air was alive with laughter. Nymph children darted past, their delicate wings beating in playful bursts. Halo-crowned deer leapt fifty meters high, weaving between the love fairies that twirled in midair. Gardens overflowed with blossoms in every hue, their fragrance and magic mingling in an intoxicating haze. Crystal streams ran sweet to the taste, as if made for joy itself. Above it all, angels streaked across the sky at the speed of light, bearing messages to distant realms.
Now, it had all turned into a land of sorrow.
"My world…"
Her head lifted at the faint rustle of air—someone was coming. From the sky, two angels descended, their great white wings spread wide, feathers gleaming like the plumage of swans.
Both were male. One bore a halo of soft brown curls, his long, pale face etched with concern. The other had sleek black hair that streamed like dark water, his movements measured despite the battered state of his armor.
"Lady Solennia!" The curly-haired angel's voice cracked as his gaze swept over her wounds.
The long-haired one dropped to his knees beside her, pressing a steadying hand against her side to stem the flow of blood. "Forgive us, Lady Solennia," he murmured, his tone low and aching. "We were too late."
Solennia shook her head, the motion sharp despite her fading strength. "No." Her eyes fluttered shut for a heartbeat—she could feel the end creeping closer—but there was still one thing she needed to say. Her voice, though faint, carried urgency. "Take me… to the Lady of Life. Without her, the universe will fall."
The two angels exchanged a brief, tense glance. Fear and hesitation flickered in their eyes—but at last, they both gave a solemn nod.
The two angels slipped their arms beneath Solennia's, lifting her with care and reverence until her feet found the ground. Then, with a single, powerful sweep, their wings struck the ground and hurled them skyward.
They soared at breakneck speed, cutting above the chaos raging at the heart of the war.
Never, in her longest dreams, had Solennia imagined seeing Celestara's people driven back within their own domain. Far below, a monstrous silhouette moved—a towering replica of the creature she had just slain, but swollen to giant size. Each step crushed angels beneath its talons, a sickly miasma of infection seeping from its footprints. And there was not just one—several titans prowled the battlefield, spitting orbs of black fire from their maws and unleashing lances of red light from their eyes.
Zaaaang!
"Watch out!"
A scarlet beam ripped past, close enough to sear the air. The force sent them reeling, their flight wavering before they recovered. Now the giants had seen them.
"Hang on!"
Zaaaang!
Five beams blazed toward them at once. The angels flanking Solennia twisted and dove with impossible precision, spiraling through the sky. Another ray cut their path, forcing them down toward the ground, weaving through clashing steel and echoing battle cries.
A swarm of abominations spotted them skimming low over the battlefield. With shrieks and snarls, they surged forward—some leaping into the air, others clawing across the ground—tripping, shoving, and even trampling each other in their frenzy to reach them. Claws snapped inches from their legs and wings; even the veteran angels' speed was nearly matched.
The curly-haired angel yanked a small pouch from his waist and spilled its contents—crystal spheres—into the wind. They clattered to the ground below, shattering in bursts of light. In an instant, jagged pillars of crystal erupted upward, locking several of the pursuers in shimmering prisons of ice.
Ahead, one of the giants lumbered into their path, its massive paw lifting high. Without exchanging a word, the two angels pumped their wings in unison, releasing a shockwave that hurled them forward at double speed. They slipped beneath the descending foot a heartbeat before it struck, and the ground quaked as the paw came down—crushing the abominations that had been right behind them.
They climbed back into the sky.
"The Lady of Life is just ahead!" one of the angels shouted over the roar of the wind.
But from above—unnoticed until too late—another swarm of abominations descended. Solennia's gaze snapped upward, but the warning caught in her throat.
"Loo—"
They veered hard, wings straining, but the swarm caught the long-haired angel on Solennia's right. The jolt nearly tore her from the air, but the curly-haired angel's arms closed around her, holding her steady.
She could only watch as the mass of creatures dragged the other angel toward the ground. They fell on him like starving ants to sugar, their bodies writhing over his form until he vanished beneath them. She did not need to see the end—she already knew.
After eighty years of war, she had learned the truth of these creatures. They came not to conquer, but to feed. And she had passed too many broken corpses on the field to mistake what would be left of him.
The angel holding her trembled, his eyes locked on the writhing mass below. "Gonder…" he whispered, voice breaking. Tears streaked down his cheeks as they flew on, glinting in the wind.
Solennia did not look back.
"We have to reach the Lady of Life." Her voice carried no warmth—only urgency. Sympathy would have to wait.
The angel swallowed hard, nodding through his sobs. With a sharp beat of his wings, he propelled them forward.