The air cracked like glass as Aion's gaze fell upon the Dominion. The golden eye in the sky radiated divine pressure so immense that the wasteland itself began to crumble, chunks of black stone floating into the air like dust caught in sunlight. Every particle shimmered with celestial light—and dread.
Kael collapsed to one knee, clutching his chest. "I—can't—breathe!"
Seraphine gritted her teeth, her blade digging into the ground to steady herself. "It's suppressing reality itself. This is… its domain."
Rai didn't move. His eyes were locked on the sky, where Aion's voice resonated—not as sound, but as pure thought.
"Child of the vow… why do you awaken what was meant to sleep?"
The voice tore through his mind like lightning. The world around him dissolved, replaced by a vast expanse of golden mist. Rai found himself standing alone in an infinite reflection of the heavens, his body weightless.
Aion's form descended—not humanoid, but a silhouette of swirling constellations, its face ever-shifting, its voice calm and vast.
"You carry the seal. You are the vow. Why struggle against what you are?"
Rai's voice echoed through the void. "Because I never chose this."
"Choice is the illusion of mortals," Aion replied softly. "You desired peace, and I granted it. You desired order, and I bound you to it. Your pain is merely the cost of perfection."
Rai's hands clenched. "You call this perfection? You turned us into tools—puppets bound by an eternal curse!"
Aion's form pulsed brighter. "You misunderstand. I gave you eternity to preserve creation. You misunderstand purpose as punishment."
The golden mist rippled violently. Rai drew his blade, its dark aura slashing through the light, scattering sparks that shimmered like dying stars. "Then you've forgotten what creation really means."
For a moment, silence. Then, laughter—soft, hollow, ancient.
"Then show me, Vowbound King. Show me your truth."
The ground beneath Rai fractured, and the void around him bent into a labyrinth of memory. Scenes from his past flickered in every direction—his coronation, the sealing of the gods, the deaths of his knights, Seraphine's last breath.
Each vision whispered to him, each version of himself accused him.
"You failed them.""You broke your promise.""You killed her."
Rai's breathing quickened. His vision blurred as he stumbled through the illusions. "Enough—"
Then a familiar voice echoed through the labyrinth.Soft. Broken. Real.
"Rai…"
He froze.
Seraphine stood before him—but not the one from now. The real Seraphine—the one who died a thousand years ago. Her eyes were full of warmth and sorrow.
"You promised we'd see the dawn together."
Rai reached out, but his hand passed through her form like smoke. "Seraphine… you were right. I—"
"Would you still love her," Aion's voice cut in, "if she were only a reflection of your sin?"
Rai's eyes hardened. "Even if she's a reflection, the love was real. That's what you'll never understand."
The labyrinth shattered. Aion's colossal form reappeared, but its light had dimmed slightly—as if Rai's defiance had cracked its perfection.
Aion's voice deepened, echoing across the heavens.
"Then let creation test the strength of your truth."
Suddenly, thousands of golden sigils ignited across the sky. Divine weapons—swords, spears, and seals forged from pure celestial law—descended like rain.
Rai raised his hand, summoning the Eclipse Seal within his chest. The markings on his skin glowed red and gold, and the ground erupted in a pillar of dark light that tore through the divine barrage. The impact shook the world; mountains in the distance shattered, and the very air turned to glass.
Kael and Seraphine—back in the real world—watched in horror as Rai's body levitated, his veins glowing like molten chains.
Kael shouted, "He's fighting it inside his own mind!"
Seraphine's eyes widened. "If he loses… Aion takes control of him forever."
Back in the void, Rai roared, channeling all his power into one final strike. "Aion! You gave me eternity, but I'll show you what mortality can do!"
The sword of the Eclipse burned through the heavens, cutting Aion's manifestation clean in half. The golden mist erupted, collapsing into silence.
When Rai opened his eyes again, he was back in the wasteland—on his knees, blood dripping from his lips. The golden eye above had vanished, but the sky was scarred, torn open like a wound.
Seraphine ran to him. "Rai! You're bleeding—"
He coughed, barely smiling. "It's… just a reminder that I'm still human."
Kael looked up at the damaged sky. "So… did we win?"
Rai's expression darkened. "No. That wasn't Aion—it was only its echo. The true Aion hasn't awakened yet."
He looked toward the distant light—the Eclipsed Citadel."That's where it waits. That's where the final truth sleeps."
The wind carried a faint whisper then, almost too quiet to hear:
"When the god wakes, the world will forget its own name."