The blue butterfly led us to the clearing. But it wasn't the same anymore.
The place where the ruins had stood yesterday now seemed to breathe in reverse.
The ground rippled, the stones quivered like living membranes, and the air itself… the air had changed density. It had become heavy, sweet, almost viscous.
Above us, the sky was saturated with gold—not the gold of sunlight, but molten metal. Thousands of butterflies swirled there, their wings beating with an animal frenzy. Each beat released shreds of mana that drifted down slowly, like glowing ashes.
I could feel my heart pounding in my temples. Each pulse echoed in the air. The entire Garden seemed to breathe with me.
Then it came—the voice. Distorted. Broken. Inhuman.
It burst from above, yet seemed to come from everywhere at once.
— Mother... what have I done to no longer deserve your gaze, I, the king of butterflies? You used to come so often... before... you spoke to me... you laughed...
