The night felt unnaturally still. The air above the ruins shimmered faintly, the stars brighter than ever before.
Erian sat alone at the edge of the broken courtyard, his cloak wrapped around his shoulders. Every wound had closed, but the exhaustion in his soul lingered. The silence wasn't empty it was waiting.
When he closed his eyes, he could still feel the echo of Lumis, like a second heartbeat beneath his own.
"You're restless," Erian whispered into the stillness.
For a moment, nothing answered. Then a voice, soft and ancient, filled his thoughts. "Because you are."
Erian exhaled. "You said you'd sleep."
"I tried," Lumis replied, his tone half amused. "But you keep asking questions even in your dreams."
Erian frowned slightly. "Then answer one of them. Who were you before all of this? Why did heaven fear you so much?"
A pause. Then the world around him changed.
The ruins faded, replaced by an endless expanse of starlight. He was floating not falling, not rising just suspended in a sea of silver fire. The constellations twisted above him like living things.
And before him stood Lumis.
Not as a god of legend, but as a figure of pure light, vaguely human in shape, his voice echoing without sound.
"In the beginning, there was no heaven. Only light and the reflection of it."
The stars pulsed softly, responding to his words.
"I was that reflection. The first spark born when the universe looked upon itself. I loved the light, and in loving it, I created form. The gods came later beings who claimed ownership of what was never theirs."
Erian watched, entranced. "So you're saying the gods are… imitators?"
"Fragments," Lumis said. "Broken pieces of what I once was. They fear me because they remember their origin. If I awaken fully, their lies collapse."
The starlit realm rippled. Erian's chest tightened. "Then why choose me?"
Lumis stepped closer. "Because you were empty enough to hold me. And brave enough not to shatter."
Erian's breath caught. The light around him dimmed slightly, forming patterns visions of worlds burning, stars falling, and gods weeping over their own creations.
"When the Starfall comes," Lumis said quietly, "every world will be forced to choose between truth and faith."
Erian clenched his fists. "And what if I choose neither?"
Lumis's form tilted, almost like a smile. "Then you will create something new."
The vision trembled, fading back into the ruined courtyard. Erian gasped as the night air filled his lungs again. His heartbeat was rapid, the stars above now swirling into a faint spiral directly over him.
He could still hear Lumis's final whisper echoing faintly in his mind.
"The heavens are watching. But not all of them are against you."
Erian looked up at the stars. For the first time, he saw movement a faint shimmer forming the outline of a wolf made of starlight, howling silently toward the moon.
A sign. A warning. Or perhaps, a promise.
He didn't know which. But deep down, he felt something shift.
The next chapter of fate had already begun.