The sky was no longer broken.
Where once black voids and bleeding gold scars marred the heavens,
now there stretched a smooth, endless canvas of blue — pale, soft, untouched.
The sun rose, not with fury, but with quiet determination, bathing the ruins of the Hero Academy in gentle warmth.
It was not the same sun the world once knew.
It was something new.
Just like everything else.
Arin Veyla stood at the highest point of the shattered courtyard,
Kai's battered body carefully laid upon a makeshift dais of stone and light.
Students, teachers, even the old elders of the Hero Academy gathered around, silent, heads bowed.
Not in mourning alone.
But in reverence.
Because word had spread.
Of the boy who stood against gods.
Of the broken warrior who refused to bend.
Of the one who chose hope over hatred — even when it cost him everything.
Kai Arashi had become something greater than legend.
He had become a symbol.
A beacon that would outshine all the titles of hero or villain that the old world tried to brand him with.
Arin stepped forward.
Her Heroic Sigil — once shining like the sun — now burned with a softer light, tinged with hues of silver and black.
She had absorbed fragments of the Abyss and the Catalyst —
and with them, she carried Kai's dream inside her very soul.
She spoke.
Her voice was strong.
Clear.
Carrying across the ruins like a blade slicing through shadow.
"Today we bury the past."
"Today we honor the one who showed us the truth."
"That heroes are not those who shine brightest."
"Nor are they those who win the loudest battles."
She placed her hand gently over Kai's heart.
A faint, flickering beat answered her touch.
"A hero is the one who chooses to believe…"
"…even when the whole world tells them not to."
Around her, the survivors wept openly.
Not in grief — but in gratitude.
Lena, the healer, stood clutching her medallion, tears streaming freely.
Soren, the tactician, bowed deeply, eyes closed in respect.
Brianna, the battle-scarred knight, slammed her sword into the earth in a salute.
Even the former "pure-bloods," the arrogant scions who once mocked the weak, now stood silent — humbled forever by what they had witnessed.
The broken stones of the Academy would be rebuilt.
But not as a fortress of heroes.
As a haven for all.
A place where strength would no longer be the measure of worth.
Where Systems were not given to rule others, but to protect and uplift.
The Age of Heroes was dead.
The Age of Choice had begun.
A new memorial was carved into the heart of the courtyard.
Not of a crowned king.
Not of a glorious warrior.
But of a boy,
standing alone,
smiling up at a dawn he fought to see.
At the base of the statue, carved deep into the stone, were his final words:
"Freedom is worth every scar."
Arin stood silently before it.
The sun warmed her face.
The wind carried whispers of the past.
But her heart was steady.
Because she knew —
Somewhere out there,
Kai was watching.
And smiling.