The sky was breaking.
Every fragment of light fell like glass, slicing through the clouds as the celestial realm collapsed into itself.
Erian's heartbeat pounded in his ears, a rhythm that felt both human and divine. The temple had vanished — only a vast storm of light remained, stretching endlessly above and below, as though they were standing in the hollow of creation itself.
Aster's hand was still on his, glowing faintly gold where their fingers intertwined. The warmth from that touch cut through the chaos around them.
"Don't let go," Erian said breathlessly.
"Not this time," Aster whispered.
Their voices were almost drowned out by the roar of collapsing stars.
All around them, fragments of the Thrones hovered like shattered halos — giant shards of gold, silver, and blue, each one vibrating with divine rage. From within the ruins, figures emerged: the Seraphs of Balance, guardians forged from light itself. Their eyes burned like suns, and each carried a spear that hummed with celestial judgment.
"The union is forbidden," one of them declared, its voice splitting into a thousand echoes.
"One essence must perish for creation to endure."
Aster stepped forward, his golden aura spiraling upward like fire meeting the wind. "You call this creation? You destroy what you don't understand."
"Defiance is corruption," the Seraphs replied. "You will unmake the cycle."
Erian's starlight flared — silver and deep blue swirling around him in radiant waves. The air cracked. For the first time, his light didn't flicker. It roared.
"I was never your pawn," he said, raising his hand. "If the cycle is this cruel, then maybe it deserves to end."
The first Seraph lunged.
Time fractured.
Aster's blade of solar flame clashed against the Seraph's spear, bursting into an explosion of light so intense that space itself folded inward. Erian followed the motion, sweeping his arm through the air, and thousands of tiny stars erupted from his palm, slicing through the surrounding guardians.
They didn't fall as mortals would — they dissolved, turning into ribbons of light that scattered across infinity.
But more came. A dozen. Then hundreds.
An endless host of beings forged from celestial law itself.
Erian's vision blurred. His veins burned with energy beyond comprehension. The light inside him wanted to consume everything — even himself.
Aster saw it. He shouted through the storm, "Erian! Don't lose control!"
Erian's voice broke. "If I stop now, they'll kill us both!"
"I'll take care of the killing." Aster's smirk was wild and desperate, a flicker of who he'd once been — fierce, radiant, unstoppable.
He raised both hands, and a second sun ignited behind him. The Solar Crown — the forbidden power of the Sunborn — formed over his head, glowing like a halo made of flame. The light burned through the darkness, and even the Seraphs faltered.
Erian could feel it. The world itself shaking. Reality bending. Their powers were never meant to exist side by side — but now, they did.
And for a moment, the universe bowed to them.
Aster's voice was low but steady. "Let's rewrite the heavens."
Erian met his gaze. "Together."
Their lights intertwined — gold and silver spiraling into a single blinding vortex. The Seraphs screamed as the union erupted into pure creation energy. Constellations shattered and reformed in an instant. Nebulas bloomed where swords clashed.
It wasn't a battle anymore.
It was rebirth.
The Thrones' broken voices echoed faintly through the chaos.
"This is the end of balance."
But Erian's voice rose above them, fierce and alive.
"No — this is freedom."
And then, everything went silent.
Only light remained — infinite, warm, and alive.
As the brightness faded, Erian found himself falling through a sea of stars.
Aster's hand still gripped his, but their forms were dissolving — the divine and mortal halves blending, becoming something new.
No longer Sunborn.
No longer Starborn.
Something beyond both.
A single heartbeat echoed across creation — the birth of a new constellation.
And then, the world below began to awaken to its second dawn.