The world greeted them with chaos.
The ruins of the imperial palace burned under a crimson sky. Towers once gilded with magic had collapsed into ash, their fragments floating through the air like dying embers. The sound of distant bells mixed with the clash of steel and the roar of unstable mana.
Erian fell to one knee as the starlight faded from his skin. The return to the mortal realm hit him like a tidal wave—the air too thick, gravity too heavy, his pulse still resonating with the energy of the Realm.
Aster steadied him, his arm firm around Erian's shoulders. "Breathe slowly. The transition always takes its toll."
Erian nodded weakly. "Where… are we?"
Aster lifted his gaze toward the horizon. Beyond the walls of smoke, the great cathedral of Solarius stood untouched, its golden spires shining like a mockery of purity.
"At the heart of the empire," he said grimly. "Exactly where they wanted us."
Before they could move, a deep rumble echoed through the ground. The shattered stones around them began to rise, floating in slow orbit as waves of divine energy pulsed from the cathedral.
The main gates opened, revealing an army in gold. Thousands of paladins and priests stood in formation, their eyes burning with artificial light.
And at the center, descending the cathedral steps with calm precision, came the masked Inquisitor. His robes were pristine despite the destruction around him, his presence radiating oppressive holiness.
"You should have stayed in the void, Prince of Stars," he said. "Now you will witness the light of Solarius consume the heavens themselves."
Aster's eyes glowed faintly, a cold silver fire dancing in his irises. "You call this light? All I see is a cage built from fear."
Erian stepped forward, his voice steady despite his exhaustion. "You've twisted divinity into a weapon. The stars never chose you."
The Inquisitor tilted his head slightly. "Then perhaps the stars should be reminded who commands this world."
He raised his staff.
In an instant, the sky split open. A radiant sun—artificial, burning, alive—formed above the cathedral. Its light poured down like molten gold, scorching everything in its path.
Erian shielded his eyes, feeling the air burn. "He's using a divine core! That's forbidden!"
"Not anymore," Aster growled. "He's using my birthright."
He stepped forward, summoning the remnants of his celestial power. The silver light burst from his body, colliding with the false sun in a storm of brilliance. The ground quaked, lightning danced between worlds, and time itself seemed to hesitate.
"Erian," Aster said through the blinding glow, "no matter what happens—don't let go."
Erian's hand tightened around his. "I won't."
Their powers intertwined—starlight and sunlight clashing, merging, creating a spiral of energy that consumed the battlefield. The false sun cracked, splintering into thousands of golden shards that rained across the sky.
For a moment, it looked like dawn itself had been reborn.
When the light finally faded, the battlefield was silent. The cathedral's spires were gone, the army scattered, and the Inquisitor stood alone amidst the ruin—his mask broken, revealing eyes that glowed like dying embers.
He smiled faintly. "You've only delayed the inevitable. The heavens never forgive."
Before either could respond, his body dissolved into dust, carried away by the wind.
Aster lowered his hand slowly, his expression unreadable.
Erian looked up at the sky, where faint stars began to reappear beyond the fading smoke. "It's over… for now."
Aster turned to him, his voice quiet. "No. This is only the fall of Solarius. The true war is still waiting beyond the stars."
And somewhere above them, far beyond mortal sight, a celestial gate began to stir once more.