The sky above Manila was washed in the pale gold of dawn. The city was restless even in the earliest hours—jeepneys rattling down narrow streets, vendors calling out as steam rose from their stalls, the air thick with heat and smoke. Mortals rushed through their cycles, each convinced their troubles filled the universe.
And in the heart of this ordinary morning, a girl awoke.
Her eyelids fluttered open, revealing eyes too bright for this world—silver irises flecked with shifting stars. They gleamed only for an instant before dimming, settling into a more human gray, as though the cosmos itself had chosen to disguise her.
Her name, whispered once across eternity, was Luminae Astraelis.
She lay in a small, creaking bed in a modest apartment, her silver-white hair spilling across the pillow like liquid moonlight. Outside her window, the honk of horns and the cry of street children blended into a chorus of mortal struggle.
And yet, within her chest, beat the heart of creation itself.
Luminae sat up slowly, clutching the thin blanket around her shoulders. She breathed deeply, as though the air itself felt alien. For a long moment, she stared at her hands. They were small, delicate, perfectly human. Yet to her, they shimmered faintly, as though they were painted illusions hiding a deeper truth.
Fragments of memory stirred within her.
A golden gaze.A roar that shaped stars.A voice that called her
"My promise."
"...Dad."
she whispered, the word trembling from her lips.
The apartment was silent. No dragon's wings, no eternal radiance. Only the sound of a neighbor's television playing some morning news.
Her throat tightened. For the first time since her birth, the child of the Will felt the weight of loneliness.
She rose and dressed carefully in the clothes left for her—plain, ordinary garments of a mortal girl. A white blouse, a dark skirt. When she looked in the mirror, the reflection staring back was beautiful beyond mortal reckoning, her silver hair cascading long and perfect. Even hidden beneath simple cloth, her figure radiated a purity that could never be concealed.
She touched the mirror's surface.
"I am… Luminae Astraelis,"
she told her reflection softly, as if reminding herself of a truth too vast for flesh to carry.
But then her lips curved into a small, determined smile.
"And I will walk this world."
The city's streets opened before her. Luminae stepped into them barefoot, her long hair catching the sun like a halo. Passersby glanced at her, some with awe, others with confusion. Yet when their eyes lingered too long, they blinked, shook their heads, and turned away—as though the universe itself veiled her divinity from mortal sight.
Every step she took was light, graceful, but not rehearsed. It was as though the Earth itself bent gently to receive her. The cracked pavement felt soft beneath her feet, the air hummed with unseen warmth, and even stray animals turned their eyes toward her, tails wagging, ears perking.
She was beauty. She was innocence. She was the Daughter of the Will, and yet… she was also just a girl in a strange land.
As she walked, Luminae's thoughts swirled. She could sense faint threads weaving around her—the hidden voice of the World System, birthed by her Father, whispering quietly through the roots of existence. Its commands flowed through numbers, laws, balances mortals would one day struggle to master.
She tilted her head, listening.
"Error… recalibration… anomaly detected."
The World itself trembled faintly at her presence, unsure how to categorize a being both divine and mortal. Luminae only giggled softly, the sound like wind chimes.
"I don't fit in your laws, do I?"
she whispered, her voice tender, unafraid.
Hours passed as she wandered, absorbing everything. The laughter of children playing with a ragged ball in the street. The cries of merchants bargaining. The scent of fried food drifting on hot air.
Every sensation was new, raw, alive. For though she had watched countless worlds from the side of her Father, she had never felt them through flesh.
At one point, she paused near a small park, watching two children quarrel over a toy. The older one pushed the younger to the ground, snatching the doll. The younger sobbed, clutching scraped knees.
Luminae's heart tightened. Without thinking, she stepped forward, kneeling before the child. She touched the wound with her hand.
A soft glow radiated—faint, almost imperceptible. The skin mended instantly. The child blinked, awe filling his eyes.
"Y-you're an angel,"
he whispered.
Luminae only smiled, brushing his hair gently.
"Just a girl,"
she answered, her voice like morning dew.
The child's tears dried. The quarrel forgotten, the two ran off together, laughter echoing.
Luminae stood slowly, staring at her hand. She clenched it, her smile trembling.
"Dad… you gave me so much. But what should I do with it here?"
As the sun sank toward the horizon, painting the sky crimson, Luminae wandered to the sea. She stood barefoot on the sand, waves lapping at her ankles. The world felt vast and small all at once.
She lifted her gaze to the sky, where the first stars began to flicker.
"I am Luminae Astraelis."
she said softly, her silver hair flowing in the evening breeze. "The daughter of God. The child of the Will. And now… I am also human."
Her eyes glimmered, reflecting the stars.
"Then I will learn. I will stumble. I will walk. I will suffer. I will love. And I will protect."
In the silence of twilight, a whisper stirred—not from the world, not from mortals, but from the deepest echo of eternity.
"…Daughter."
Her heart leapt. She turned, eyes wide. The sea was empty. Only the waves answered. But she knew. Somewhere beyond the veil of stars, her Father watched.
And though she was far from Him, though she walked as a mortal, she would never be alone.
Thus began Luminae Astraelis' journey on Earth.The tale of a divine child reborn among mortals.The dawn of a new age, where heaven's daughter would walk as flesh, and the fate of all creation would shift with her every step.