The temple was made of stars.
Its walls shimmered with living constellations, each pulse carrying the rhythm of a universe long forgotten. Erian felt the air hum against his skin, charged with divine energy so immense that even breathing it felt sacred—and dangerous.
Aster walked beside him, his silver hair catching every glint of light. His expression was calm, but his eyes were sharp, scanning every motion of the celestial beings that lined the path.
They were tall, faceless figures cloaked in radiance. Wings of fire curved behind them, and their voices whispered without mouths, echoing prayers in a language older than time.
At the end of the hall, a platform rose above the clouds. Upon it sat three Thrones—massive seats carved from light itself. Each glowed with a different hue: gold, silver, and pale blue.
When the two reached the platform, the beings around them bowed and fell silent.
A voice, clear and resonant, filled the temple.
"Children of divided light," it said. "You have crossed the mortal veil to stand before the Thrones of Creation. Speak your purpose."
Erian took a slow breath, forcing his voice to stay steady. "We didn't come to challenge you. We came for answers. The Order of Solarius used your power to enslave this world. We need to know why the stars allowed it."
For a moment, silence answered him. Then the Throne of Silver flickered, and a softer, feminine voice replied.
"The stars did not grant them that power, child. Humanity stole it."
Erian's eyes widened. "Stole it?"
Aster frowned. "From whom?"
The Golden Throne glowed brighter. "From you both."
The air thickened, the light bending. Suddenly, visions flared across the temple—scenes of a time before memory.
A war among the heavens. Two divine beings, one radiant like the sun and one cloaked in starlight, stood side by side, holding the balance of creation itself. But betrayal came. The mortals who worshiped them turned their faith into chains, using divine fragments to build kingdoms, orders, and gods of their own making.
"You," said the Blue Throne, "are the reborn fragments of those ancient beings. The Sunborn and the Starborn. Once you ruled in harmony. Now, you inherit their broken covenant."
Erian felt his knees weaken. "So this… curse between us—it's not punishment?"
"No," the Throne of Silver said softly. "It's remembrance."
Aster's hands clenched at his sides. "Then why were our memories sealed? Why were we forced to destroy each other's world?"
The Golden Throne pulsed, its light hardening. "Because balance demands ignorance. When light and starlight remember their unity, creation trembles."
Erian's voice trembled with anger. "You mean you feared us."
The silence that followed was almost confirmation.
Then the temple floor began to fracture. Lines of silver and gold light snaked beneath them, splitting the air with growing intensity. The voices of the Thrones rose, overlapping like thunder.
"The convergence begins again. The world will not survive another union. One of you must fade."
Erian froze. "Fade?"
Aster stepped forward, his aura flaring in defiance. "No. We've done this once before. We won't repeat it."
"You have no choice," the Thrones replied. "To preserve the world below, only one celestial essence may remain."
Erian turned to Aster, eyes wide with disbelief. "They're asking us to—"
"I know," Aster said quietly. His hand found Erian's. "And I refuse."
The Thrones' light grew blinding, their combined voice echoing across eternity. "Then your rebellion shall bring the end of stars."
The ground shattered, the temple collapsing into a storm of cosmic light.
Aster pulled Erian close as the sky tore open once more. "No matter what they destroy," he whispered, "I will not lose you again."
And as the Celestial Realm erupted into chaos, the two vanished into the storm together—starlight and sunlight colliding into one final spark that defied the heavens.