Part I: The Shadow Queen
The moonlight spilled through the shattered glass of the cathedral ruins. Dust floated in the air like ghostly petals, catching faint red glows that pulsed from the sigils drawn beneath Eussia's feet.
Before her, a tall figure leaned lazily against a broken pillar — the resurrected Demon King, Licht, cloaked in quiet power.
"You're late," Licht murmured, his voice smooth, almost teasing."You try attending a royal banquet while wearing a saint's smile," Eussia replied dryly, her golden eyes flickering to crimson for a moment. "They nearly brought the Pope to purify me."
Licht chuckled, low and sharp.
"You played your part well, Queen. The Holy Court believes your 'light' still belongs to them."
Eussia's smirk faltered.
"For now. But they'll soon notice the difference between blessing and curse. The longer I remain in this vessel, the more her body rejects me."
Her fingers trailed across the ancient altar where faint frost remained — the same ice that once sealed her true body.
"My sister thought sealing me would save the world. How naive."
Licht's expression darkened.
"Do you even remember why you were sealed?"
"Of course," she whispered. "Because the world feared what it couldn't control — a Saintess who carried both light and shadow."
She turned toward him, eyes glinting.
"The plan remains the same. I need my true body, and the man who gave her this holy light — Zhask. Once I find him, the heart of the Queen will awaken."
Licht bowed his head.
"Then I'll move the shadows for you. The mortal kings are already trembling at the mention of your name."
Eussia smiled, almost tenderly.
"Let them. A kingdom built on lies deserves to be ruled by monsters."
The crimson sigils beneath her flared — and her image began to dissolve into mist.
"The puppet strings are breaking," she whispered, her voice echoing. "Let the masters squirm."
Part II: The Brothers' Truth
The palace war room was silent except for the faint ticking of the clock. Kiel stood at the window, eyes fixed on the night outside, where lightning briefly split the sky.
Behind him, Ciel sat calmly at his desk, pen poised over reports — as if the storm did not exist.
"You've been quiet since the banquet," Ciel said finally. "Still brooding over the Saintess?"
"Don't," Kiel said. His voice was low, trembling with restraint. "Don't call her that. You knew, didn't you? You knew she wasn't the real Elestia."
Ciel's pen stilled mid-line.
"Define 'real.'"
Kiel turned, anger flashing across his face.
"Don't play semantics with me. Her aura's fractured. Her memories contradict themselves. And that night — when her power surged — even the Pope felt two blessings colliding. That's not divine grace. That's possession."
Ciel finally looked up, his gaze cold and sharp.
"Possession? No, Kiel. It's synchronization."
"What the hell do you mean—"
"Elestia wasn't reborn by accident. She was the result of a divine experiment — the fusion of two souls: one pure, one corrupted. The Church called it 'The Saintess Project.' The goal was to create a vessel strong enough to contain both heaven's blessing and hell's curse."
Kiel froze.
"You mean she was—"
"A test subject," Ciel finished, his tone almost gentle. "And we — the royal bloodline — were the sponsors."
Silence fell heavy.
Kiel's fists clenched.
"You used her like a weapon. Like she wasn't even human."
"She is human," Ciel corrected softly. "Just not entirely herself. The Elestia you know — the one who smiles, who cries — she's the echo of the first soul. The second one, the darker one… is beginning to stir."
Kiel's chest tightened. The image of her — crying under the starlight, trembling in the alley — haunted him.
"Then what happens when the other one wakes?"
Ciel's eyes darkened, reflecting the flash of lightning outside.
"Then the prophecy will finally make sense. The Saintess and the Queen were never two different women… they were always one and the same."
Part III: Convergence
Far from the palace, deep in the forest, the wind stirred around an abandoned shrine. Eussia — or what ware Elestia's face — stood before a stone mirror.
Her reflection flickered between two forms: one serene and glowing, the other shadowed, eyes like molten sunset.
"Soon, sister," she whispered to her own image. "We'll stop pretending to be separate. This world only has room for one of us."
The mirror cracked.
Back in the palace, Ciel poured himself a glass of wine and murmured to no one in particular:
"The experiment succeeded, Kiel. The only question now… is which soul the world will worship when it ends."
And in the same instant, Kiel whispered in the dark hallway outside:
"Elestia… please, don't disappear.