The golden light lingered, fading like a memory as the realm stilled.
Frazaris stood, wings now hidden, his gaze turned to the heavens.
"I am not permitted to speak of it," he said, voice hushed with divine restraint. "The gods have denied me this truth."
A silence followed — deep and reverent — until the air shifted.
A soft ripple shimmered through the garden.
Jiya appeared.
The crimson mist that once bound her had dissolved. She stepped forward — barefoot, eyes wide — as if awakened from a long dream. Karlos's breath caught.
"Jiya…" he whispered.
She turned, and for a heartbeat, the war, the pain, the betrayals all vanished.
Karlos, her uncle, ran to her and pulled her into his arms. She clutched him tightly, burying her face into his shoulder.
Kell took a single step forward, then stopped. He said nothing. Only looked — heart bare, eyes shining. Jiya met his gaze, and her lips trembled.
The Butler, silent and composed, bowed deeply. "Lady Jiya… you are safe. That is all that matters."
Behind them, Luo emerged slowly, his face aged not by time but by burden. Ru followed, pale and watchful.
Kell turned to them. "Mother… Father."
Luo's jaw tightened. Ru blinked rapidly, then rushed to embrace her son.
Karlos stepped back, taking Kell by the shoulder. "You're stronger than I imagined. What Jacob did… none of it defines you."
The Butler added gently, "And you are not alone anymore."
Frazaris exhaled. The air shimmered. A figure stepped out from the light — robed in flowing silver, with a helm of crystal flame.
"A messenger," Frazaris said. "The gods have sent witness."
The figure offered no words, but the scent of incense and distant stars followed it. As it stood, unmoving, the veils between worlds seemed to shiver.
Luo stepped forward, his eyes locked onto the Butler.
"Old friend," he said, tone half-grave, half-fond. "Still playing the part of the loyal shadow."
The Butler blinked. "Luo… Ghost of the Black Wastes. I never thought it was truly you."
They stood silently, then embraced like warriors reunited after decades.
"We hunted each other through seven nations," Luo said.
"And failed every time," the Butler smiled faintly.
"Until we both got too old to care."
Laughter followed — weary, real. The room softened.
Jacob stepped forward, expression stunned.
"That man… you… were the ghost? I never knew."
"Few do," Luo replied. "Some truths wait decades to be told."
Then Frazaris raised his hand, and the sky shimmered.
"The gods have spoken. A new era must begin. Every living being — animal, man, or plant blessed by spiritual essence — must be taken. Sent to realms where they may evolve, grow, and choose their fates anew."
From his robes, Frazaris drew forth the Heart of Migration — a crystalline orb woven with golden vines, inscribed with celestial runes. It pulsed with soft rhythm, like the heartbeat of creation, and whispered with the language of starlight.
He raised it above his head. The orb spun, releasing threads of starlight that danced across the air. The realm around them became transparent, woven with mirrors of possibility.
Winds sang with the voices of old gods. Like the echo of the Scroll of Nine Dawns.
Beasts howled joyfully in distant forests. The earth beneath them bloomed, golden and green.
One by one, those chosen began to vanish:
— Luo and Ru, hand-in-hand, disappeared into the Dao World, their forms trailing ribbons of ancient wind.
— Jiya, her eyes full of light, ascended in a spiral of violet flame toward the Immortal God Realms.
— Karlos, smiling with tears in his eyes, gave a final nod to Jacob before vanishing into the Mana World, armor gleaming with legacy.
— The Wolves, each bathed in the light of their affinity, stepped into realms shaped by their unique Dao and strengths.
— Jacob, finally, stood alone. He turned once to Frazaris. "If I am granted another chance… I will face the ruin I left behind."
Then he too vanished, drawn into the Dao World.
Only Kell remained.
He looked at his hands. No glow. No light. No realm.
Frazaris turned to him.
"You have no power, Kell. Not yet."
Kell looked up, confused and hurt. "Then why… why didn't I go?"
Frazaris placed a hand over his heart. "Because the gods have not decided where you belong. Not because you are less — but because you are more than anyone knows."
The boy said nothing.
He only looked to the place Jiya had vanished. His breath shivered.
Frazaris stepped beside him. They stood beneath the cherry tree, now stripped bare, petals scattered like memory.
The Messenger of the Gods turned once — helm gleaming — and murmured, "The pivot turns… and the third spiral has begun."
They looked at the empty world together.
And somewhere deep in the cosmos, a voice whispered:
"The true story… begins now."...