Centuries had passed.
The realms—Earth, Angel, Demon, remained in an uneasy but lasting peace. Legends spoke of heroes, of wars, and of a love that had shaped the fate of all worlds.
And yet… in the quiet of Nexus realm, the throne sat empty, draped in stillness.
Isaac remained. Immobile. Slumbering. His form preserved by the power of the Ethereal Soul and the Abyssflame. Time had passed, but he had not wavered. Not in thought, not in duty, not in memory.
Until it came….
A sudden presence,
faint,
distant,
almost imperceptible,
in the far edges of the Demon Realm.
Something stirred.
Something alive.
His eyes shot open. The centuries of sleep vanished in an instant.
Life surged through him, fierce and relentless. His heart, long steady and calm, pounded with exaggarated force.
All the memories of her, flooded back in a torrent:
her smile,
her warmth,
her laughter,
the battle,
the final embrace,
and the eternal promise that had bound them together.
The Ethereal Soul glowed brilliantly upon his chest, illuminating the ruins of the throne room.
The Abyssflame flickered, then blazed, hot, alive, resonating in harmony with the soul within him.
He rose from the throne, every movement deliberate yet overwhelming in presence.
One word escaped his lips, heavy with longing, determination, and unyielding love:
"Irithel"
The realms would soon feel the tremor of what was coming.
Because,
one heartbeat,
one soul,
one flame,
were awakening…