The corridors of Fairy Academy stretched longer than usual, their polished floors reflecting the morning light in shards of color. The Twelve Celestial Warriors walked side by side, yet a quiet distance hovered between them—not physical, but mental. The galaxy was no longer an abstract swirl of stars. It was something they were expected to protect, and the weight pressed heavily on their shoulders.
At the edge of the academy grounds, their residence rose like a crown of light.
Villa Twelve.
White stone curved inward toward a circular core, etched with ancient aether runes that pulsed faintly as the warriors approached. Twelve wings extended outward, each subtly echoing its owner's element: warmth near the Fire wing, radiant brilliance near Light, gentle shadow near Dark and Shadow. The villa had always recognized them. Today, recognition felt heavier.
As the doors opened, a familiar warmth enveloped them, yet even that comfort could not soothe the tension coiling in their chests.
They moved automatically toward the heart of the villa—the living hall.
The chamber was vast, circular, the domed ceiling projecting a faint illusion of drifting stars. At its center stood a massive table of crystallized aetherwood, polished by generations of warriors. Twelve chairs circled it, waiting.
Silence filled the space as they took their seats. Only the soft hum of the villa's aether responded to their presence.
Mia leaned forward first, her voice low and brittle. "So… we just got told the galaxy has exactly one law. And we're standing between it and total collapse."
Kai whistled, a faint, nervous sound. "No pressure or anything."
Emma's eyes narrowed. "This isn't a joke, Kai."
"I know," he replied immediately, face serious. "That's the problem."
Nero's broad hands pressed against the table. "Our kingdoms trained us to protect people," he said slowly. "But this… this is different. Borders don't matter. Not here."
"It's about existence," Kael murmured, silver eyes distant. "If we fail… there's nowhere else."
Seraphina sat still, shadows curling subtly around her shoulders. "The Heavenly Law doesn't intervene. That means when the time comes… it's only us."
Silence pressed down like a weight.
Lyra hadn't spoken.
Between Orion and Serena, her posture was perfect, expression calm. But her thoughts churned violently: the Evil Planet, the shattered darkness, Nyx Tenebris standing untouched amid ruin. And her Phoenix Flame, thrumming beneath her skin like a trapped storm.
Serena noticed first. "Lyra," she said softly. "Are you alright?"
Lyra hesitated. Her fingers trembled beneath the table. The villa seemed to sense the flicker of her flame, pulsing in response. "I… I am," she whispered, though the words rang hollow.
Orion felt it immediately.
He slid closer, brushing an arm against hers. The contact anchored her more than any words could. His presence was steady, grounding.
"We'll face it together," he said quietly, voice low, steady as the sun.
Lyra looked up, meeting the gazes of all twelve warriors. Twelve elements. Twelve hearts. Different paths, different powers, now bound by something far greater than any destiny.
"We didn't choose this burden," she said softly. "But we are the ones who can carry it."
Sofia offered a faint smile. "Then we carry it together."
Zane's voice emerged from the shadows. "Alone, none of us would survive what's coming."
The truth settled over them, heavy, unyielding. But it did not break them.
Conversation trickled forward in small, cautious steps. Training techniques, control exercises, fleeting jokes to mask fear—but always returning to the gravity of what awaited them. No bravado. Only resolve, slowly hardening into something unbreakable.
Exhaustion eventually claimed them. One by one, the warriors rose and returned to their wings. The villa pulsed faintly, responding to each element as it passed, silent witness to the strength—and vulnerability—within.
Night descended over Villa Twelve.
---
Lyra's nightmares came as always.
She woke gasping, heart pounding, Phoenix Flame flickering uncontrollably beneath her skin. Cold memories wrapped around her chest: the moment she had died, the pain, the emptiness. She tried to pull her knees close, to trap the fire inside, but it surged regardless, threatening to escape.
The door opened almost immediately.
Orion stood there, already awake, eyes dark with concern. "Lyra…"
Her composure shattered. She flinched, trembling. "I… I saw it again," she whispered. "The moment I died. I couldn't stop it."
He crossed the room in two steps and knelt beside her, radiating calm. "You don't have to face it alone."
She hesitated only a second. "Can you… stay?"
He didn't hesitate. "Of course."
They lay side by side. His arm wrapped carefully around her, holding her like the world had narrowed to a single heartbeat. Her trembling slowly eased. The Phoenix Flame dimmed, settling back into her body, a contained inferno.
For the first time that night, she slept just a little more peacefully.
And the galaxy—vast, silent, waiting—continued to turn.