The Still World was quiet.
Moonlight flowed like silver silk through the translucent trees that bordered the crystalline lake, its reflection broken only by the shifting ripple of time's forgotten echo. No winds. No sounds. Just the pulse of a realm suspended in the veil between reality and eternity.
Inside the private sanctum—a chamber crafted by Alter himself, where no gaze of god or demon could reach—two figures lay together beneath a woven canopy of soft starlight threads.
Selene's breath was steady, her head gently rising and falling atop Alter's bare chest. Her fingers traced small circles upon his skin, glowing faintly in the light of their soul-bound rings.
She hadn't spoken for a while.
But neither had slept.
"Alter…" she whispered finally, her voice no louder than a breeze.
His golden eyes opened, warm and watchful. "Still awake," he answered with a soft smile.
"I had a feeling," she said, sitting up slightly. The sheets slid down, baring her back to the moonlight as she gazed down at the ring upon her finger. "You're always awake, aren't you?"
He nodded gently, brushing a strand of her hair aside. "One of the many side-effects. Creator Authority disrupts the need for rest. I can enter something like stasis, but… I usually just lie here, listening to you breathe."
Her cheeks warmed. "Then… tell me something. Something real. I want to know you. Not the Sovereign, not the Prime, not the godslayer."
She leaned closer, her eyes filled with tender insistence. "Tell me about your past. Everything. The things you've never shared."
Alter paused.
He looked into her eyes, then slowly reached up and held her hand.
Pulling her gently back down, he guided her to rest on his chest once more, his voice distant yet vivid. "Where should I even begin…"
He exhaled.
"It started in a forest. I woke up… alone. No memory. No name. Just a sky filled with broken stars and a sword I didn't recognize."
And so he began to speak.
He told her of the cursed forests. Of the first village he saved and the bandits he struck down. Of the early system messages that meant nothing to him then. Of the Trial of Ascension—and how it had nearly shattered him.
Selene listened, clutching his hand tighter with each memory.
When he described the Elder Drake that impaled him through the chest, she gasped and sat up again. "You what—?! You died?"
He chuckled lightly. "I got better."
She glared, then leaned back into him, face pressed against his shoulder. "Don't joke about that…"
He smiled, lifting her hand and kissing her fingers.
He continued. The Betrayal in the Glass Citadel. The World Maelstrom. The Demon Invasion of the Forbidden Vein. Every tale unfolded like stardust across her heart.
When he spoke of the Trial of Ascension—a timeless, twisted reality where he fought countless shadows of himself, burned in divine fire, and screamed until his voice no longer worked—Selene's breath caught.
She clenched his chest tightly. Her tears slipped silently down her cheeks.
He paused.
"…It was the worst pain I've ever known," he admitted. "I wasn't just tested. I was unmade."
She sat up again, eyes shimmering. "Alter, why didn't you tell me…?"
"Because I made it through. And because right now, I have you."
He pulled her gently into his arms, resting her head beneath his chin. "That trial… I buried it deep. But you wanted the truth."
"Not if it hurts you," she whispered.
He stroked her hair. "It doesn't. Not anymore. Because every time I thought I would shatter, I imagined you. Your voice. Your touch. Even before we met… I dreamed of someone like you. Maybe that was fate. Maybe it was my soul screaming across time to find yours."
Selene trembled against him, speechless.
They stayed like that, bodies pressed close beneath the radiant canopy. The soft glow of their rings pulsed in unison.
He spoke more—of Seraphina, the Divine Forge, the Still World's creation, and the celestial balance tipping with every demon slain. Selene listened, her heart catching at every memory he had carried in silence.
They whispered together long into the night, their voices no louder than falling snow.
Eventually, as the horizon of the Still World began to glow with dawn's promise, Selene remained curled in his arms, still awake but at peace. Alter cradled her close, finally quiet.
No more secrets.
Just the truth shared between two hearts—woven now into eternity.
A shimmer pulsed across the boundary of the Still World.
With a soft breath of light, the veil split—and through it stepped Alter and Selene, hand in hand.
Selene radiated. Not metaphorically—literally. Her hair shimmered like moonlit silk, her cheeks carried the warmth of roses kissed by dawn, and her skin glowed faintly with the telltale aura of one touched by divine resonance. She walked barefoot across the polished stone, the mana in the air parting around her like drifting mist.
Alter, calm and composed as ever, held her hand as if guiding the sun itself back into the world.
The training courtyard fell still.
The 14 Commanders, mid-drill, stopped and stared. Mythral Dawn disciples froze in place. And at the far balcony overlooking the estate, Selene's father, the Elven King of the Verdant Crown, arched a silver eyebrow as he stood beside her mother, regal and poised, and her siblings, who leaned closer in varying states of awe and horror.
"…She's glowing," Mira whispered, squinting. "Like actually glowing."
"She wasn't glowing before," Finn added quickly.
One of the female Commanders nudged her companion. "You think it was divine resonance or—"
"—Five hours and twenty-four minutes," another cut in flatly, as if announcing an official record.
The crowd flinched as a bold female Commander dashed across the courtyard to grab Selene's arm with an exaggerated wink. "So tell us everything—!"
ZZZTT!
A visible ripple of mana backlash zapped through the air, causing the woman to yelp and stumble backward, her hair momentarily frizzed.
"…She's got a passive divine shield?" someone muttered.
"It's the aura of post-divine intimacy," another deadpanned.
Selene blinked. "Oh dear—I didn't mean to!"
Alter chuckled softly. "It seems your glow has… side effects."
Above, Selene's sister clutched the balcony railing, staring down in disbelief. "She looks like a goddess…"
"More like she became one," muttered her brother, slightly pale.
The Queen narrowed her eyes, arms crossed. "Is it even healthy to radiate light after a night alone? This cannot be normal."
The Elven King, however, smiled proudly. "She's found happiness. And power. Let her glow."
Blazebloom, half-lodged in the doorway with a banana in his paw, squinted toward Selene—then fished out a pair of tiny, gem-rimmed sunglasses and slid them on with the drama of a sun-weary celebrity.
"Hmph. That's it. I'm charging for every second I stand in her divine light."
Selene laughed, and even her laugh seemed touched with celestial resonance.
Mira leaned toward Finn. "You think we'll glow like that someday?"
Finn flushed. "Let's… just focus on training."
Alter looked across the courtyard, one hand still entwined with Selene's. "Let's not forget—we do have drills today."
The entire training yard groaned in unison.
Selene giggled and leaned into him. "You're so cruel sometimes."
"I learned from the best," he said, nudging her gently.
And so, under morning light and laughter, the world resumed—but not before basking a little longer in the glow of love, mystery, and scandalous speculation.
Master," Garran Flamecoil called out teasingly from the training ring. "You're making the rest of us look bad!"
Alter just walked forward calmly, utterly unaffected.
Selene, however, was beet red now, glaring daggers at everyone while trying to maintain dignity. She took one step—
And another Commander shouted:
"Wait! Did you glow before he proposed or after?!"
The courtyard exploded with laughter and chaotic teasing.
Even Takayoshi, perched silently by the far wall with arms crossed, cracked a smile.
Blazebloom chose that exact moment to float overhead with a deadpan squeak.
"Blazebloom rates their harmony at: 10 out of 10. Also recommends hydration."
"SHUT UP!" Selene shrieked, launching a mana puff toward the hovering bear. Blazebloom dipped and twirled out of range like a smug balloon.
Alter reached Selene and gently slipped an arm around her waist, guiding her forward.
"Let them talk," he murmured. "They're just jealous."
"Obviously," she huffed.
As the two passed the crowd of laughing Commanders and startled Dragoons, Selene buried her face into Alter's shoulder and whispered just for him.
"…You're never leaving me alone with them again."
He chuckled softly.
"Noted."
The midday sun bathed the Mythral Dawn estate in a warm glow, casting long shadows over the cobbled garden paths and reflecting off the polished stone of the central courtyard. A gentle breeze stirred the blooming trees, their petals falling like snow.
At the estate's outer gate, the royal entourage of the Elven forest prepared for departure. Twin silverleaf carriages, drawn by horned stags with moss-laced antlers, shimmered with enchantment, waiting patiently beneath a runic arch.
Selene stood beside Alter, her fingers gently woven through his. Her father, the Elven King, turned back for one final glance, his gaze lingering with bittersweet weight.
"Thank you," he said to Alter, his voice regal yet kind. "For everything you've given her. And for what you've become."
Alter bowed his head with solemn respect. "She is my light in this world. I promise… I will always protect her."
Selene squeezed his hand, her eyes shimmering.
The Queen approached next, elegant and composed. She paused before Selene, her expression unreadable for a moment… then softened.
"We may not understand your path, daughter," she said, voice low, "but we do see the joy in your eyes. Perhaps… that is enough."
Selene smiled gently. "I'll write. This time, I promise."
Her younger sister approached and grabbed both of Selene's hands, grinning mischievously. "You look gorgeous in that dress. Still glowing, too. I hope that's not permanent. I'd rather not have to wear sunglasses to visit you."
Her older brother rolled his eyes. "You better keep training. Just because you married a Sovereign doesn't mean you get to slack off."
Selene smirked. "Please, I train harder than you do."
The Queen turned to Alter last. "We will prepare a place for you. Should you choose to visit our kingdom, the forest will know your name."
"I'll come," Alter replied, his tone warm but steady. "In peace. In trust."
The Elven King nodded once more. "Then let it be so."
With a final blessing in the old tongue, the royal family stepped into the waiting carriages. The horned stags reared slightly, and with a flicker of verdant light, the procession vanished down the runed path, leaving behind a trail of drifting petals and shimmering mana.
As the light faded, quiet settled.
Selene leaned her head on Alter's shoulder.
"They're gone," she murmured. "And somehow… I already miss them."
Alter wrapped an arm around her waist, drawing her in. "We'll see them again. But for now—this peace is ours."
A soft breeze carried the scent of tea and orchids from the courtyard pavilion. Birds sang in the trees overhead. The 14 Commanders stood respectfully to the side, observing their Sovereign and his bride without a word, some with quiet smiles of their own.
Selene and Alter strolled slowly into the inner garden, fingers entwined.
No battles awaited them today.
No speeches. No urgent training. No world-threatening omens.
Just a moment of rest. A breath shared between two souls.
And beneath the blooming trees, the mythic Sovereign and the elven bride found peace not as legends—but as simply Alter and Selene.
Moonlight spilled across the room like molten silver, drifting in from the balcony where the wind carried the scent of distant flowers. The bedroom of the Sovereign was silent save for the gentle rise and fall of Selene's breath, her head resting peacefully upon Alter's bare chest, her hand curled beneath his.
And then—
A voice.
Soft. Echoing from nowhere.
"Alter…"
His eyes snapped open.
Stillness reigned. The world had not stirred.
But the voice came again—faint, distorted, as though echoing from a chasm across creation.
"…Alter…"
He shifted, sitting upright carefully so as not to disturb Selene. Her arms instinctively sought him in sleep, but he brushed her hand gently, whispering, "I'll be right here."
The room felt… denser. As if the very mana in the air had turned to glass.
Then it came once more—this time clearer.
"…Yes… I hear you…"
Alter's breath caught.
That voice… familiar. Threaded with divine warmth, ancient pain, and something older than time.
He whispered her name aloud.
"…Seraphina?"
For a moment, there was no reply.
But then a crackle—like a flame flickering through a mirror. The voice returned.
"Y—… Alter… it's… me…"
The sound warped again, as though fighting against a force trying to smother it. The syllables bent, glitched, twisted—but her essence was unmistakable.
"Signal…restoring… the connection is… returning…"
Alter's fingers clenched.
For months—no, for years within the Still World—there had been only silence where once her voice had been a constant guide. She had vanished when the divine seals collapsed. Her final words had been lost in light.
But now…
Now her voice had returned, like the first raindrop upon parched earth.
"Seraphina… where are you?" he said softly, eyes narrowing with focus.
But the connection faltered.
Static. Silence.
Then her voice again—softer this time, as if drifting into sleep.
"Soon… in time… we will speak once more…"
And then—nothing.
The moonlight faded behind a passing cloud, and the air grew still once again.
Alter remained frozen, listening to silence.
But inside him, something stirred—a tether long thought severed had begun to mend.
Behind him, Selene stirred groggily. "Mmm… Alter…?"
He turned, easing back beside her, gently guiding her back into his embrace.
"I'm here," he whispered, brushing a hand along her cheek.
She smiled in her sleep, unaware of the divine tremor that had just brushed against their world.
Alter stared at the ceiling in silence.
Seraphina was alive.
And the veil between them had begun to lift.
In the highest chamber of the divine realm, where time hung heavy and the walls were woven from pure celestial light, the war council of the gods stood assembled. The chamber hummed with restrained energy—gilded marble thrones lining the circular dais, where deities of conquest, law, and flame stood in uneasy silence.
At the center, Seraphina stood still—her hands trembling, her gaze locked not on the heavens, but inward, far beyond mortal sight.
"…Alter," she whispered once more. Her voice trembled with hope, and her golden eyes shimmered with the faintest traces of forming tears.
Solien, god of divine balance and supreme commander of the War Council, stood beside her. His silver-white mantle billowed softly in the breeze of starlight pouring through the windows.
"So… you were able to hear him?" he asked solemnly, arms folded behind his back.
Seraphina nodded. "Yes. It was brief—like a thread trying to bind itself back together after centuries of ruin. But it was him. I'm certain of it."
The gods murmured amongst themselves. Some in awe. Others in concern.
Solien's eyes narrowed, his divine pupils reflecting constellations.
"If the connection is re-establishing," he said slowly, "and if he truly has unsealed his Creator Authority… then he's no longer hidden from the world's fundamental laws."
Seraphina's brow tightened. "He's managed to shield himself this long. Perhaps the Still World aided that—"
"But not forever," Solien interrupted. "A presence of that scale within the mortal realm will draw attention. From balance. From fate. From the World Current itself. The system will not allow him to remain unchecked."
A younger war god slammed a gauntlet-clad fist onto the table. "Then we must act! If we cannot retrieve him, we must warn him! Or all those near him—"
"I KNOW!" Seraphina's voice rose, sharp and pained. Her wings of light flickered uncontrollably, casting wild shadows across the room. "You think I haven't thought of that? I felt him suffer… bleed… die and rise again. And now that I can finally hear him—do you think I'd let the balance take him?"
The chamber fell quiet.
Solien inhaled slowly. "We don't want that either, Seraphina."
He raised a hand and turned to one of the divine attendants waiting along the wall.
"You. Search the mortal realm—specifically the lands of Seraveth. Seek anyone named Alter, or even resonating with his divine trace. Any scrap of mana. Any whisper of sovereign presence. Bring me the report at once."
The divine servant bowed and vanished in a blink of mirrored light.
Solien lowered his hand. "We must act quickly. Before the system finds him first. Before the very laws of this world recognize his existence and bring correction. Before tragedy finds its way to him… or to those he loves."
But unknown to them—futility had already wrapped around their efforts like a silken noose.
In the mortal realm, the Veil of Origin had evolved.
Its concealment field had risen beyond divine trace, now capable of blocking all perception from beings below 85% Creator Authority.
Even Solien's divine gaze could no longer pierce it. The world's balance would find only a blur.
And as Seraphina stood alone by the celestial window, the winds gently tugging at her silken gown, a trace of fear crossed her features.
Not because she couldn't find him…
…but because she finally could.
A broken tether had begun to mend.
And when it was whole again…
The gods would no longer be able to look away.
Two days passed in the divine realm, though in the mortal world, nearly two weeks had already gone by.
The halls of the celestial archive pulsed with quiet light, threads of fate drifting like silk across the dome's great mural of stars. At the far end of the chamber, Solien stood silently—gazing over a map of Seraveth etched in divine fire across a floating platform. His hands were clasped behind his back, wings folded, brow furrowed in thought.
Then—
A pulse of golden glyphs lit the chamber's floor.
A circular doorway of light opened midair, and the divine attendant from earlier stepped forward, robes fluttering, expression grave. He knelt immediately.
"Supreme One. I have returned."
Solien's gaze didn't shift. "Report."
"I scoured the entirety of Seraveth—its cities, wilderness, ruins, divine shrines, even the sealed sanctums still hidden to mortals." The attendant's voice was unwavering. "We followed every leyline disturbance and abnormal mana flux that might indicate the Draconian Prime's presence."
Solien turned slightly.
"And?"
"…We found nothing."
The room grew cold. Not from temperature, but from the weight of divine silence.
"No traces?" Solien asked slowly.
The attendant hesitated. "There was… one anomaly."
Solien's eyes narrowed.
"A region in central Seraveth, near the ruins of an ancient battleground. The leyline pattern fractured there. It was as if something existed at the center—yet when we tried to focus our gaze or divine its cause, our perceptions… slipped."
"Slipped?" Solien's voice was cold as iron.
"Yes, my lord. We attempted direct scrying, elemental probing, even soul-pulse tracing. Each effort blurred. Not repelled, not reflected—blurred. Like looking at a storm behind a veil of starlight."
Solien stepped forward, placing one hand over the Seraveth projection.
"And you're certain the disturbance wasn't caused by a god?"
"Yes," the attendant replied. "We ran it against every god's divine trace. None matched. But the frequency that pulsed from within… bore a resemblance to something ancient. Something forged from Sovereign Authority."
Solien's expression darkened. "Veil of Origin."
The other gods behind him stirred.
He turned, addressing them with a calm grimness.
"It's as I feared. He's shielded himself—intentionally or instinctively—from all divine detection. His concealment is absolute… unless pierced by a Creator."
"And there are only a few of those left," murmured one war god.
Solien gave a slow nod. "Then we are blind."
He turned back to the attendant.
"Continue observation of that region. Maintain a celestial anchor above the area in case the veil weakens."
The attendant bowed and vanished once again into streaks of golden wind.
Seraphina entered quietly from the far hall. "You couldn't find him either."
Solien didn't turn. "No. But the fact that we can't confirms something far more important. He's alive. And active. And he has Creator Authority."
Seraphina stepped closer, her expression unreadable.
"Then we wait?"
Solien clenched his fists behind his back.
"…No. We prepare. Because when the balance finds him—and it will—it won't knock gently. It will shatter the sky."
The still world was quiet.
Time moved slow here—so slow that even breath felt like wind brushing against stone centuries old. Outside, nothing stirred. But inside the tranquil bedroom carved into a grove of floating crystal trees, Alter sat upright in bed.
His golden eyes were open, wide. Focused.
Selene lay beside him, curled peacefully against his side, her breath soft, hand still resting atop his chest.
But Alter wasn't resting. Not anymore.
"…Seraphina."
The whisper was not spoken aloud, yet it echoed inside his thoughts like a memory clawing its way up from slumber. That voice—distorted, distant, yet unmistakably hers—had called out to him not long ago. Once. Then twice. Then silence.
He hadn't imagined it.
He closed his eyes.
If the connection is reawakening… he thought, his mind whirring faster now, …then that means the tether between me and the divine realm has begun to mend.
He clenched the sheet beneath his hand.
At first, he had rejoiced inwardly. He missed her. The days when she guided him, when she whispered in riddles and pushed him beyond the edges of mortality—those were behind him now. Or so he had thought.
But then—
His thoughts accelerated.
Simulation. Probability. Action. Consequence.
He ran it all in his mind like a war tactician plotting a collapsing sky.
Thread reestablishes. Divine senses recalibrate. Mortal concealment degrades. Divine balance identifies anomalous Creator Presence.
—They find me.
He sat up straighter, body suddenly tense.
"And when they find me…" he muttered aloud.
—The balance will react. Not slowly. Not kindly. And not just to me.
His eyes slowly turned toward Selene.
She still slept. Her silver-white hair shimmered faintly from residual divine glow. Her lips curled ever so slightly, lost in dreams.
His expression softened… then darkened.
"If they strike at me, they strike at her too… and everyone else around me. The Dragoons. The Commanders. Even the elven realms..."
He clenched his jaw.
"I have to sever it. I have to cut the connection. Again."
He rose to his feet without making a sound, grabbing a loose tunic from the edge of the carved stone bench nearby. His movements were silent, fluid. He stepped to the mirror, gazing at his reflection.
But his reflection stared back with divine resonance. The glyphs lining his shoulders pulsed faintly. The core of his Creator Authority—the very thing that made him stronger, unkillable, sovereign—was now the beacon pulling fate toward him.
Dammit...
"I don't even know how to cut it this time," he growled softly. "Not without… consequences."
He turned back to Selene.
She stirred slightly, murmuring something, then settled again.
Alter walked back to her side, kneeling.
His hand reached forward and gently brushed her hair from her cheek. Then he leaned close, whispering quietly so as not to wake her.
"I don't have the luxury of waiting anymore."
He exhaled, one hand gripping the edge of the bed as he let the truth settle in.
"But I still have time. The tether is weak. The signal unstable."
I can prepare.
He stood, his resolve solidifying like obsidian around his spine.
No more hesitation. No more peace that assumed safety.
He would begin making plans. Protective fallback measures. Mobility seals. Dimensional vaults. Even defensive planar protocols.
He would find a way to shield those close to him—permanently.
He had bought them months of peace. But now?
Now the sky was beginning to look again.
And when it did, it would not look away.
The Still World was silent.
Alter stood alone beneath the crystal canopy, head bowed, eyes fixed on the shifting light of the realm's core. Each pulse echoed like a heartbeat—slow, steady, and absolute.
But within him, all was in turmoil.
The voice had confirmed it: Seraphina's connection was mending. The tether between himself and the divine realm—once sealed away to protect those he loved—was fraying.
He had no way to stop it.
But he could still make a choice.
"…If I can't stop the gods from finding me," he murmured to the empty air, "then I have to stop them from finding them."
His gaze drifted to the markings of the Veil of Origin carved into the ground beneath his feet. The concealment worked for now. But it wouldn't last forever—not with his Creator Authority resonating louder by the day.
He turned away from the forge and closed his eyes, searching through memory—until it came to him.
The Trial of Ascension.
The stairs.
The divine path that had almost broken him.
That was the way back to the divine realm. Not through death, not through invitation—but by claiming it.
"…Then that's the answer," Alter whispered, voice hollow with realization. "I'll go back. Climb the stairs. Enter the divine realm again—and let the world rebalance."
Because only by removing himself from the mortal plane could the balance be preserved. Only then would the gods stop watching. Only then would disaster be diverted.
And only then… would he be truly gone.
He exhaled slowly. His chest ached.
He had finally found peace. A future. A love he didn't believe he deserved—but clung to with everything he was.
And now…
He would have to leave it all behind.
The next morning, the sun within the Still World never rose, but light seeped through the crystalline canopy like a quiet promise. Alter sat at the edge of the pool beneath their tree, watching the ripples, waiting.
Selene approached behind him.
He turned, stood, and took her hand gently.
"Selene," he said softly, "I have to tell you something."
Her expression froze. She could see it in his eyes. The same look he wore when burdened by impossible choices.
She listened as he spoke—slowly, carefully—about Seraphina's voice, the returning connection, the coming disaster that the world would send to erase the imbalance of his Creator Authority. He explained that staying here would endanger everything and everyone.
Then he told her his plan—to return to the divine realm through the Trial of Ascension. To ascend the stairs once more.
Selene's breath caught in her throat.
"So… you must leave again," she said, eyes wide, voice trembling.
He nodded once.
Tears began to spill down her cheeks. "We were just married…"
"I know," he said, voice breaking. "I know."
She stepped into him and pressed her head to his chest. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, clutching her as though the world was already pulling them apart.
"I don't want to let go again," she whispered. "Not after everything."
He said nothing.
What comfort could there be in this moment?
None.
Only the truth—that he would go, because he must. Because love required sacrifice. And because he could not allow her to suffer the price of his power.
They remained like that for a long time.
By the time they emerged from the Still World in the late afternoon, both carried the weight of the future etched across their faces.
Selene glowed, as always—but the aura was different. Subdued. Reverent. Almost sacred in its stillness.
The Commanders caught sight of her and prepared their usual teasing remarks—but one glance at her expression stopped them cold.
And then they saw Alter.
His eyes bore the weight of a thousand lifetimes. His steps were calm, but his soul radiated a quiet sorrow they had never seen.
Mira stepped back instinctively. Finn lowered his eyes. Even the others held their tongues.
Something had changed.
And none of them could laugh through it.
Alter looked to them all, gaze firm, but not unkind.
A sovereign's gaze. One who knew the end of peace was drawing near.
The courtyard of the Mythral Dawn Estate was quiet, the air still with an unspoken weight. All fourteen Commanders stood assembled, their eyes locked onto one figure—Alter.
Selene stood at his side, hand held in his, her fingers trembling but firm.
Alter exhaled slowly and began to speak.
"I must leave."
The words landed softly—but carried the weight of finality. No one interrupted. No one moved.
"I've tried to remain here," he continued. "To find peace. To build something. But the world… the world always moves to balance itself."
He looked around the circle, meeting every gaze.
"The connection between me and the divine realm—between me and Seraphina—is mending. I heard her voice. Distant. Fragmented. But real."
Whispers stirred, but died quickly as Alter raised a hand.
"If that connection completes, the world will act. The balance will break—and this realm will respond with disaster. It may not target me directly. It may target those I love."
His fingers tightened around Selene's.
"I will not allow that."
Mira looked as though she wanted to speak, her lips parting slightly—but her voice failed. Finn glanced at her, then back to Alter, fists clenched.
Selene stared forward, eyes low, her thumb gently tracing Alter's wrist as if trying to memorize every line of him.
"I've made my choice," he said. "To keep you safe, I will return to the divine realm. The only way I know how… is through the Trial of Ascension. I will climb the stairs again. Not to gain power—this time, to vanish from this world's judgment."
He paused, voice softening.
"But the connection isn't fully restored yet. I still have time. How much? I'm not sure. I plan to examine the threads of that divine tether. Perhaps I can calculate the rate. Perhaps we have weeks. Or less."
Selene's hand gripped tighter. Her sorrow was palpable, but she said nothing. Not yet. Just stayed beside him, her cheek faintly wet.
"I will remain inside the Still World until the moment comes," Alter said, voice steady. "And she—" he glanced gently to Selene, "will remain with me."
A few of the Commanders began to react, sorrow blooming behind battle-hardened faces. Darius looked down. Arinelle bit her lip. Even Caelum seemed lost in thought.
Then Alter cracked a faint smile, as if trying to push back against the fog that settled around them.
"This isn't the final goodbye. Not yet. So don't look like I'm already dead," he said with forced levity. "I'm still here. And I intend to spend what time I have with all of you. With her."
That slight smile faded, replaced with something more fragile, more real.
"When the time comes," he promised, "I'll tell you."
And with that, he turned.
Selene followed beside him without hesitation, her steps slow but resolute.
The entrance to the Still World shimmered open.
They stopped just before stepping through.
Alter glanced back one last time.
None of the Commanders said a word—but the emotions in their eyes said everything.
Finn gave the faintest nod. Mira wiped at her cheek, but quickly turned away. Veyna and Garran stood shoulder to shoulder, motionless. Even Selene's siblings, still residing in the estate, watched in quiet reverence.
Then the two vanished into the Still World once more.
And time resumed.
Within that eternal sanctuary, they lived each day fully. They shared meals under drifting crystal leaves. Danced beneath the aurora sky. Held each other through every moment, no matter how small, no matter how fleeting.
They knew this love might one day be separated by realms, by fate, by the cruel law of balance.
But they refused to waste a single breath.
They carved their memories into eternity.
And for a time…
There was only peace.