PREVIOUSLY-
However, suddenly rays of green light spread through the water.
A figure emerged out of nowhere. It had no form, no shape, just pure anonymity and a being of fog in water. But as the fog randomly changed colours between the spectrum of light, a wide jagged smile stretched across its supposed head.
"Perfect."
_____________________________
Somewhere else. Nowhere.
Silence.
Not the silence of the sea or the grave—but something deeper. A silence so profound it felt like a weight pressing down on existence itself.
Raphael floated in the void, weightless, breathless. His body was gone. There was no pain. No water. Just… awareness.
Then, a voice.
"Hey."
It was faint, echoing like a memory.
"Ralph... is that you?"
A soft glow flickered nearby—another presence adrift in the dark.
Leon.
Their souls hovered side by side, pale reflections of their former selves. The void stretched endlessly in all directions, stitched together by streaks of green light, like cracks in a mirror.
"Are we dead?" Leon asked, his voice small.
Raphael didn't answer immediately. He reached out, and this time, their hands met with no resistance.
"I think so," he said. "Or something close."
Suddenly, the void breathed. The green light pulsed, faster, deeper. A presence stirred—massive, watching, ancient.
"You're not supposed to be here yet."
The voice didn't come from any direction. It came from everywhere.
Leon flinched. Raphael tensed.
"Then why are we?" he asked.
"Because something broke."
"Because something noticed."
"Because you're interesting."
The voice warped, splintering into whispers, laughter, and screams—all layered over each other.
A green eye opened in the dark. No iris. No pupil. Just light, endless and hungry.
"Do you want to live?"
Leon glanced at Raphael.
"...Together?"
The voice chuckled.
"Together, yes. But not as you were."
"Then how?"
"As seekers."
"As pawns."
"As thorns in the flesh of gods."
Snap.
The world cracked—
Light exploded.
Sound vanished.
Time twisted.
Then—
Warmth.
Not comforting warmth. Suffocating warmth.
Muffled sound. A constant thrum—thump-thump, thump-thump—like a heartbeat through thick walls. Fluid pressed in on all sides.
Gurgle.
Leon twitched.
No—not Leon. Not really. He had no name here. No voice. No body he recognized. Just panic. Awareness compressed into a space far too small.
He kicked. Or tried to. His limbs were short. Unformed. Weak.
What is this—?!
Raphael's thoughts echoed in the same watery void nearby. A second awareness—familiar. Close.
Two heartbeats.
Two wombs.
Two souls trapped in flesh not yet theirs.
No voice. Just emotion. A shocked, echoing thought in the void.
Then came the sounds—muffled voices from the outside, distorted like underwater screams.
And above all, the presence returned. Watching. Amused.
"Born of death, bathed in storms, cursed with memory—"
"—Now rise again, seekers of Transcendence."
The world began to shake. The walls around them tightened. Pressure built.
Birth.
A violent, crushing descent.
And then—
Light.
Air.
Sound.
Wails.
The first breath ripped through them like fire, like drowning in reverse.
The cold was unbearable.
"Both are boys!" a voice cried.
The world had begun again.
CREAK
The doors burst open as two men entered the room. Their steps were fast, paced as if they were chasing something.
One scanned the room with his black-eyes like an arrow for his target. His short onyx hair was disheveled as sweat dripped to his neatly trimmed beard.
The other, with a brown ponytail glided across the room in three steps, his golden pupils stopping at the attending nurse.
"Are they safe?" The man's words came in ragged breaths.
The nurse nodded calmly, the soft wrinkles on her old face stretching into a joyful smile. "Yes, they are, Duke Leonhart."
Alexander Leonhart looked at the two women in white gowns lying on the bed. Their chest rose and fell with each shaky breath as the pain from the delivery seeped in.
The women were like a mirror of each other. One had long white hair that flowed like a river. The other had a shorter hairstyle, every strand of her short white hair seemed disciplined.
The longer hair twin had a beauty mark just below her lip while the other had hers under her right eye.
But both had eyes as twin shards of emerald.
"Sophie!" Alexander ran to the long-haired twin.
"Honey are you okay? Is it too painful? Are you having any trouble breathing? Do you need any—"
Sophie pressed a feeble finger against Alexander's lips. Her lips curled into a tired smile,
"Let me catch my breath first, Alex."
Beside them the black-haired man held the hand of the short-haired woman.
"Amelia, would you like some water?"
Amelia just smiled at him, brushing a strand of his hair from the forehead,
"Just what were you doing? You look even more tired than me." She laughed weakly.
The man's lips turned slightly upwards, "I was worried about you. Let me call father-in-law."
As the man turned to leave, a hand wrapped around his wrist.
"Stay here for a moment," Amelia patted the stool next to her bed. "Edward."
Edward sat on the stool with the precision of a diplomat. "Okay, love."
His expression grew warmer as his fingers gently ran through the strands of Amelia's hair.
"Duke Leonhart, Duke Tigranclaw." Two nurses appeared, carrying a baby wrapped in cloth each. "Please take a look at the young masters."
The men scooped the babies carefully, their hands trembling with the weight of relief and joy.
"Edward, Alexander." A voice boomed from behind them, a man who appeared to be in his fifties walked towards them.
"How are Sophie and Amelia?" His voice came out steadier than the way his fingers kept twisting the edge of his cuff.
The old man stepped toward his daughters. His white hair clung to his forehead, blue eyes rimmed with exhaustion. Kneeling beside them, he pressed a kiss to each brow.
"My daughters, I am proud of you." Tears streamed down the man's cheeks.
"Thomas," A woman of similar age came forward, her purple eyes swept over the room, landing on the newborns cradled in their fathers' arms. Concern flickered first—then melted into relief, then joy. A joy too heavy to laugh with, but deep enough to weep for.
"Olivia," Thomas stood up from the bed, "I don't have words to express my happiness. Can you believe it? We just became grandparents?!"
Olivia gave a gentle smile, "Yes, dear. It seems fate has really rewarded us."
She walked to Amelia and Sophie, "Go see your grandkids, while I sit with our daughters for a moment."
Thomas' chest deflated in relief as he saw the face of his newborns.
"They look exactly like their mothers." He could not control his lips from stretching ear to ear this time.
"His eyes are also like Amelia." Edward spoke calmly.
"But they have our hair." Alexander casually remarked.
The atmosphere around them changed, their gaze looked up to see Thomas' brows furrowed in controlled rage.
"B-But, father-in-law, their texture is just like their mothers." Edward said quickly, holding whatever little strands of hair he could find on the newborn's head carefully.
Thomas stretched out both his hands, "Give them to their grandpa."
The men obeyed and just when it seemed that Thomas' smile couldn't get wider, it grew more, the warmth of the newborns calmed his mind and melted his heart in ways he did not expect.
'What is this immense joy I am feeling. I- I just want to hold these two boys as close as I can to myself. Its as if even their existence makes my heart burst. Why do I want to cry?'
Back at the beds, Olivia wiped the sweat from each of her daughters' forehead.
"Both of you, you did an amazing job. I am so proud of you two." Her eyes calmly locked with theirs, "How does it feel to become a mother?"
Sophie grinned, "I feel so happy, mother. I can't believe that I now have a child. Me and Alexander have a child. You have a grandkid. It feels surreal."
"It feels good. Its as if my heart has a found another reason to be happy." Amelia smiled weakly.
Suddenly, a sharp knock echoed in the chamber.
"May I enter." A soft voice came forward.
The expressions of all the figures in the room softened. Their face smiling for the dozenth time.
"Yes, you can, Vincent."