—Timeskip—
The third great disaster of this current era had finally arrived, just as Rosy had predicted.
At the very heart of Nagazora City, the sky itself seemed to split apart. Thick, churning clouds of violet energy devoured the heavens, and the howls of Honkai beasts echoed like the cries of ancient gods. A storm of destruction had descended upon the world — the third Honkai eruption — and this time, it showed no mercy.
Once lively streets were now unrecognizable. Buildings had been reduced to twisted skeletons of metal and stone. Fires danced atop the ruins, painting the smoke-streaked sky in shades of crimson and purple. The ground trembled as distant explosions shattered what little remained of order. Humanity's cries of despair were drowned beneath the roaring chaos of the Honkai storm.
In the midst of this ruined landscape stood what used to be a school — a sanctuary of learning now turned into a graveyard of dreams. Half of its buildings were gone, swallowed by the collapse. The air inside was heavy with the scent of burnt paper and ozone, a faint reminder of what once had been.
And within one of those broken classrooms, a faint, golden glow flickered.
A man sat calmly at the teacher's desk, as if completely detached from the chaos outside. His blonde hair caught the faint light filtering through the shattered windows, and his pen — no, his quill — moved with deliberate grace across an ancient-looking notebook. The quill itself shimmered faintly, the material unlike anything of this world — the Quill of Alzuhood, a tool that could bend fiction and reality together.
"What a devastating disaster… isn't it, Rosy?" Adam spoke softly, his voice tinged with a mixture of wonder and melancholy. His words seemed almost out of place amid the ruin, a quiet tone of reflection in a world falling apart.
The small, floating figure beside him — currently taking the form of 0-08, a mechanical doll of intricate design — turned toward him with eyes glowing faint blue.
[Affirmative, Host Adam. I cannot imagine what the previous era must have been like… if something of this scale is merely a minor disaster compared to the Honkai eruptions that came before.]
Adam's lips curled into a small, bitter smile. "Poor Flame-Chasers, aren't they?" he murmured, leaning back against the chair. "They worked so hard to protect humanity… and yet, half of that same humanity was already lost to greed, corruption, and sin."
The storm outside flashed again — a blinding burst of violet light illuminated his pensive face.
He sighed deeply, resting his chin upon one hand. "If they hadn't been suppressed by MOTH's higher-ups ninety percent of the time, maybe… just maybe… they could have stood a chance against The End."
[I agree, Host Adam.]
Rosy's tone carried a rare softness, almost human. Her voice echoed faintly in the ruined room, gentle but firm.
[If not for the wickedness and selfishness of mankind, the Flame-Chasers might have prevailed. Perhaps not forever, but long enough to give hope a true meaning.]
For a moment, silence fell. The only sound was the distant crack of thunder and the hum of the quill as Adam continued to write. The ink glowed faintly gold, words forming lines of power, scripting destiny itself.
Outside, the world crumbled — but inside that broken classroom, a god rewrote fate.
A sudden surge of Honkai energy rippled through the air. Adam's hand froze mid-sentence. He felt it — sharp, chaotic, and unmistakably divine. The Queen of Thunder had awoken.
He exhaled, closing his notebook. A single blink later, he vanished, leaving only faint sparks of golden light drifting through the classroom.
When Adam reappeared, it was atop the remains of a nearby skyscraper. From there, he had the perfect view of the storm below
The city beneath him was a battlefield of gods and mortals.
Lightning cut through the blackened sky like blades of judgment, striking the earth with the wrath of a forgotten deity. In the midst of that brilliance stood a figure — a girl with long purple hair flowing wildly, her eyes burning with divine rage. The ground around her cracked under the weight of her power. In her grasp hung another girl — white-haired, limp, and fragile in comparison.
"What a mess," the Herrscher of Thunder hissed through gritted teeth. "Getting injured trying to save that coward… Kiana!"
Sparks erupted violently from her body, dancing across her arms like living serpents of light. She stared at the unconscious girl in her grip, her emotions twisting — rage, grief, and something far deeper.
"You'd better wake up right now," she whispered, her voice trembling despite its venom. "I won't allow you to die like this."
Her eyes softened — only for a heartbeat — before hardening again with fury.
"I'm the only one who can take away your life."
The moment hung frozen in the storm. And then — she felt it. A presence. Heavy, ancient, calm.
Her head snapped to the side.
There, standing among the debris, was a blonde-haired man with his hands clasped calmly behind his back. He seemed almost serene, his clothes unruffled, his golden eyes filled with quiet curiosity. Their gazes met — and for the first time since her birth, the Queen of Thunder felt something she hadn't felt before — fear.
The world blurred. The man was gone.
A massive shadow loomed above her — the Helios battleship descending through the clouds, its cannons glowing bright. The Herrscher's fury reignited, and the battle continued.
Far from the chaos, Adam reappeared once again, sighing with mild frustration.
"Even when I conceal myself, she can still sense me… guess I'm not as subtle as I thought."
A small, chibi-like Rosy appeared on his shoulder, smiling under her blindfold.
[It's only been a week since you received these powers, Host Adam. Don't be too hard on yourself.]
Adam chuckled softly. "Such a good motivator you are, Rosy."
His gaze drifted back toward the thunderstorm in the distance. "So… the Nova girl. Has she arrived in St. Freya yet?"
[Not yet, Host Adam. According to our timeline, she'll reach St. Freya after a year of wandering Nagazora.]
"Hm. And where is she now?"
[That direction, Host.]
Rosy pointed toward the western outskirts of the ruined city.
Without hesitation, Adam teleported, the air distorting with golden ripples each time he vanished and reappeared. After a few short leaps through the debris-filled streets, he finally found her — a young girl lying unconscious beneath a cracked concrete arch, her breathing faint but steady.
"So this is her…" Adam murmured, brushing some dust from her cheek. "Has she awakened the Stigmata of stars yet, Rosy?"
[Close, but not quite yet, Host Adam.]
"Then she'll need rest," he said quietly. He waved his hand, and light shimmered beneath her body — forming a soft, glowing bed that lifted her gently into the air.
He smiled faintly, golden light reflecting in his eyes.
"She still has a role to play in the story I'm weaving."
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I quite forgot that I have reworked my fanfic and almost forgot about his so I forgot to create this and so I have to create one faster than I needed it to be and by the way helping me by pointing out mistakes is of great help to me