Darkness thinned into a gradual dawn. Ezmelral gasped, her lungs refilling as her senses reeled, finding herself once more floating beside Raiking within the veil of time. Yet, a profound duality tugged at her core—she was herself, and yet more, a soul reshaped by another's lived past.
Raiking's gaze fixed on her. His crimson eyes widened, just slightly, taking in her transformation.
She stood taller, her features refined from youthful softness into a poised, ageless beautiful maturity, as if the journey through time had honed her essence without the wear of years. Her hair, a cascade of deepest black, was gathered into a high bun secured by a vibrant red ribbon, from which a single, subtle streak of crimson emerged from the lower strands. Her attire was an elegant hanfu of layered harmony: a deep blue outer robe with hems embroidered in intricate, lattice-like patterns, bordered by bold red accents that matched the wide sash at her waist. Beneath, pristine white layers gleamed, adorned with delicate blue motifs that curled like ancient vines.
But it was her face that held his attention. Centered on her forehead was a striking red star mark, a celestial emblem that drew the eye to her own. Her eyes were no longer the same; they were a piercing, otherworldly blue, framed by subtle liner and holding a depth that had not been there before—a transformation that spoke of burdens borne and truths unveiled.
Suddenly, the ghostly forms of the God-King and the younger lookalike flickered, their voices echoing from the past:
"So, will you take me as your master?"
Ezmelral, suspended in the veil, felt a primal surge—an instinct to scream, to shatter the ritual and sever the thread of tragedy before it could be woven. Yet, her heart, now fused with the memories of a lifetime she never lived, clenched in refusal. To stop this was to erase everything—the pain, but also the love, the lessons, the bond.
Then, the thought came, cool and clear as a truth long known: Perhaps the lookalike was right. The solution was never just about saving a single world.
Her gaze shifted to the Raiking beside her, his profile etched against the flow of time. The realization crystallized, simple and devastating:
To heal the Cosmos, one must first mend a broken heart.
She turned back, a silent witness, as her lookalike's younger self drew a steadying breath. The words that would seal their destiny were spoken:
"I will be your disciple."
In the throne room below, the armorless God-King Raiking watched the scene unfold and dissolve. His voice, raw and resonant, cut through the silence, a low rumble of final recognition.
"The choice has been made."
As he spoke, the ghostly echoes of the past shivered and dissolved into silver mist, fading like a dream relinquished to the dawn.
He stepped to the center of the room, his unarmored form a stark contrast to the temple's grandeur, the weight of his presence filling the sacred space. The Eden Roots, having cradled the lookalike's lifeless form with tender reverence, gently lowered her to the floor before him, placing her in the heart of the temple—a silent, solemn offering to the fate they now faced together.
In the veil of time, Raiking placed a steadying hand on Ezmelral's shoulder. "What happ—are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentle yet edged with concern.
She flinched, brushing his hand away in an abrupt, almost reflexive motion. Raiking's expression shifted into pure confusion. A faint, unsteady lie slipped from her lips to bridge the sudden distance: "I—sorry, my body... it hasn't adjusted to the changes yet."
The truth was far simpler, and terrifying. A childlike crush had once bloomed in her heart, a quiet warmth that his touch would send shimmering down her spine. But now, that same touch was a spark to tinder. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic, shocking rhythm that left her feeling exposed and defensive—a vulnerability so profound it felt like a weakness.
Raiking softened his gaze, his tone reassuring. "When you are ready to talk, I will be here." Yet, even his gentleness now stirred a new, unsettling emotion within her—insecurity. The thought, sharp and unbidden, cut through her: Is he looking at me, or at the ghost I now wear?
Before the doubt could take root, a power erupted in the hall below. It was a surge of energy unlike any other, shaking the temple's foundations and sending ripples through the very fabric of the veil.
This time, Ezmelral needed no explanation from her master. The knowledge surfaced within her as if remembered rather than learned: the title of God-King belonged to Raiking alone—a singular rank in the cosmic hierarchy. Like every combat stage, it was divided into ten minor ascensions.
For countless eons, Raiking had deliberately, defiantly, held himself at the ninth. He remained one step from the peak, ensuring he was never truly unrivaled. It was a choice born not of humility, but of restraint—preserving both the thrill of potential challenge and the fragile balance of the Cosmos itself.
And now, he was taking that final step.
---
Beneath Eden's Garden, the heavens convulsed.
Stars flickered out and reignited, constellations shattering and reforming as the God-King reached the zenith of his power. The grief that had chained him for ages broke free, transmuting into pure, unrestrained energy—his will fusing with the lattice of the universe.
From that convergence, something vast awoke.
Space bent, folded, and tore. A breach opened, and from it emerged a figure so colossal that Planet Eden seemed a mere ornament in its shadow. The being rose, its crown breaching the level of the Sacred Tree, blotting out the distant stars. Tremors rippled through the Great Temple; the planet shuddered as though in reverence to its maker.
Each inhale drew stardust into vast lungs, birthing novas within its chest. Each exhale bent the fabric of night, reshaping galaxies into new orbits.
Then its eyes opened—twin stars of absolute stillness. Within its chest, galaxies spun in solemn, reverent harmony, their rotations beating in time with the God-King's heart.
This was Eidolon, the Primordial Spirit of the God-King—his truest self, born of grief, divinity, and unyielding will. The echo of what lay beyond both mortality and godhood.
It gazed down upon the Garden, its expression unreadable, its light casting the sanctum in hues of silver and funeral flame. The universe held its breath.
Then, with a single thought—the God-King's will made manifest—Eidolon moved.
The titan raised one hand, vast as the horizon, its fingers unfurling like pillars of starlight. Slowly, deliberately, it enclosed Planet Eden within its grasp.
---
The God-King Raiking vanished from the temple floor. In the next instant, he reappeared before Eidolon's cosmic chest—a silhouette of flesh adrift before an ocean of swirling galaxies. His crimson gaze lifted to meet the primordial reflection of himself.
He extended his hand.
Below, the Sacred Tree trembled. Its roots tore free from the bedrock, writhing like veins of living light across the void. The soil split, bleeding trails of molten essence into weightless dark. Without atmosphere, the destruction unfolded in absolute silence—broken only by the low, resonant hum of unraveling creation.
Petal by petal, leaf by leaf, the eternal sanctuary collapsed inward. Fragments of its sacred flora drifted through space like dying embers, their glow fading as Eden's soil folded upon itself in a slow, deliberate implosion. The collapse was not violent, but reverent—an act of will rewriting the laws of existence.
When the light dimmed, what remained was no paradise—
—but a coffin.
Forged from the remnants of Eden's sanctum, its surface shimmered with faint echoes of what it once was: golden vines, fading petals, whispers of celestial dew. Within its translucent shell lay the fallen disciple, her body serene, untouched by decay—preserved in crystalline stillness, as though the God-King refused to let the universe forget her face.
He hovered in silence, the galaxies within Eidolon's chest pulsing in rhythm with his grief. His gaze fell upon Planet Eden, now cradled helplessly within the titan's palm—a world caught between divinity and judgment.
Then, without a sound, the God-King Raiking vanished.
A ripple of light marked his descent into the planet's heart—
—to deliver his vengeance.