The sky over Azure Empire had never been so bright.
Streams of silver and gold light twisted together above the capital, forming a massive ring that pulsed like a living heart. Every mage and priest stared in awe, whispering prayers—or curses—as the heavens themselves responded.
Deep within the ruins beneath the Royal Academy, Erian stood at the center of a glowing sigil. His robes were torn, his hands bloodstained from the ritual he had just completed. Around him, the remnants of the starlight barrier shimmered faintly, struggling to stay intact.
His heartbeat matched the rhythm of the stars.
He could feel Aster's presence now. Strong. Alive. Furious.
"I found you," he whispered, his voice trembling.
The mark on his chest burned, and suddenly, a column of silver light descended, piercing through stone and magic alike. It hit the ground beside him, expanding outward with a blinding surge.
From within that radiance, a silhouette appeared.
Tall. Regal. Familiar.
As the light faded, Aster Caelum stood before him, his silver hair fluttering in the still air, his armor scorched from battle. His gaze softened the instant it met Erian's.
For a long, fragile moment, neither spoke.
Then Erian broke the silence. "You're really here."
"I told you I would come back," Aster replied quietly. His voice carried power that made the ground tremble.
Erian took a step forward. "You shouldn't have—The Order knows you've awakened. They'll come for you."
"Let them." Aster's tone turned sharp. "They've taken enough from us."
Before Erian could respond, a loud crack echoed through the ruins. The air shimmered violently as dozens of golden sigils appeared in a circle, surrounding them. From each sigil, figures emerged—priests of the Order of Solarius, cloaked in radiance and armed with divine chains.
At their center stood the masked Inquisitor, his presence suffocating.
"Crown Prince Aster Caelum," the Inquisitor declared, his voice echoing. "And the heretic who bears the mark of the forbidden star. You both are condemned by divine law."
Erian clenched his fists, power flaring in his eyes. "You call it divine, but all I see is fear."
"Fear," Aster repeated, stepping forward, his aura expanding in a wave of starlight, "belongs to those who still kneel."
The priests raised their hands, and golden chains shot toward them. In an instant, Aster caught them midair, crushing them into dust. His eyes glowed like twin novas.
"Erian," he said softly, not looking away from their enemies, "when I give the signal, open the Gate."
Erian hesitated. "It's not stable yet—"
"Neither is this world," Aster replied, a faint smile crossing his lips.
As if on cue, the ground beneath them split open. The ancient sigil Erian had drawn began to spin, its light intensifying until it tore open a rift of swirling stars. Wind howled through the ruins, pulling everything toward the vortex.
The priests shouted incantations, trying to seal it, but Aster moved faster. He raised his hand, summoning a spear of condensed light, and hurled it at the Inquisitor. The explosion that followed erased the entire front line.
"Now, Erian!"
Erian pressed his palm to the center of the sigil. His magic surged wildly, his vision blurring. The Gate roared to life, revealing a corridor of galaxies twisting into infinity.
He turned back just as Aster reached him, his hand outstretched.
Their fingers met.
For a moment, time itself seemed to stop.
Two souls, one reborn and one restored, connected through light and fate.
Then the world collapsed around them.
A blinding burst of energy swallowed everything—the ruins, the priests, the city above—and when it faded, both of them were gone.
All that remained was silence… and a single star, glowing faintly above the wreckage.