Lunareth did not sleep.
When she closed her eyes, the world dissolved.
Not into darkness—
but into light.
She stood barefoot upon an endless expanse of white clouds, each step sending ripples of golden radiance outward. Above her stretched an infinite sky painted in soft blues and pearlescent gold, layered with floating sanctuaries and radiant spires that defied distance.
This was not memory.
This was Heaven.
Her wings—pure, luminous silver—unfurled behind her, feathers shimmering with divine mana. Her body felt lighter here, as if gravity itself bowed before her existence.
She remembered this place.
She had belonged here.
"Lunareth."
The voice echoed gently.
She turned.
Figures of light stood in orderly ranks—beings of flawless form, halos hovering above their heads, eyes filled with reverence and restraint. At the highest platform, seated upon a throne formed of condensed starlight, was Ithryne.
Not cloaked.
Not hooded.
Here, Ithryne stood revealed.
Her form was vast and radiant, yet unsettling—light bending unnaturally around her, colors refusing to settle. Her eyes were the same violet glow Lunareth had seen on the battlefield, but here they were worshipped.
She was not merely a Primordial.
She was Heaven's Arbiter.
"You have questioned the decree," Ithryne said calmly.
Lunareth stepped forward, wings folding tightly.
"I questioned injustice."
A murmur rippled through the divine assembly.
"The lower realms suffer," Lunareth continued, voice unwavering. "Entire races are erased by judgment passed without understanding. If Heaven exists to protect balance, then why does it only observe?"
Ithryne's expression did not change.
"Because balance requires sacrifice."
"That is not balance," Lunareth replied. "That is cowardice wrapped in law."
Silence fell.
For the first time—
Ithryne rose from her throne.
"You were created to enforce Heaven's will," Ithryne said softly.
"Not to feel for those beneath it."
Lunareth clenched her fists.
"Then Heaven has lost its meaning."
The words struck harder than any blade.
Light froze.
The sky dimmed.
Ithryne raised her hand—and the laws of Heaven responded.
"Lunareth," she declared, voice echoing through eternity,
"By defying divine order, you forfeit your place."
Golden chains of judgment wrapped around Lunareth's wings, tearing them apart into fragments of light.
Pain—pure and absolute—ripped through her soul.
"You are cast out," Ithryne continued, emotionless.
"Stripped of title. Stripped of divinity."
The clouds beneath Lunareth shattered.
She fell.
Not through sky—
But through existence itself.
As she plummeted, she looked up one final time.
At Heaven.
At Ithryne.
At the throne that had never been meant to be questioned.
---
Lunareth gasped.
She was back.
Her hands trembled.
Kaelith and Elaryn stood frozen, having witnessed everything through the residual memory mana leaking from her soul.
Kaelith's jaw tightened.
"…She did that to you?"
Elaryn's expression was no longer calm.
It was cold fury.
"She didn't just take your position," Elaryn said quietly.
"She erased you."
Kaelith turned sharply, mana flaring violently around him.
"That Primordial—no," he corrected himself,
"that thing—"
He slammed his fist into the ground.
"—doesn't get to decide who deserves to exist."
Elaryn's eyes burned with lethal intent.
"She calls it balance," she said.
"I call it tyranny."
Lunareth slowly stood, her voice steady despite the storm in her heart.
"I didn't hate her," she said.
"Even after everything."
She looked toward the horizon.
"But now…"
Her silver mana ignited, sharper than ever before.
"…I won't forgive her."
The Eclipse Collectors stood together.
And somewhere beyond space—
A Primordial felt the shift.