Lyra had entered the seal.
The sky was no different — ash drifted.
Everything felt heavy, like the air itself remembered something.
She walked ahead, quiet.
Then ahead a field stretched endlessly — soldiers fighting, faces twisted, blades clashing against their own allies.
Some screamed. Some didn't.
They kept fighting even as their bodies fell apart, their forms flickering like half-remembered light.
Lyra stopped, eyes tracing each movement, her breath caught between confusion and dread.
It wasn't real — none of it was. She could feel it.
Like a memory forced to play again and again.
She rose slowly into the air. From above, it became clearer — not people, but memories of them.
Then a blue panel appeared.
[Trial: Stop the war]
Her brow furrowed.
"Stop the war?" she whispered, her voice barely a sound.
Then the panel flickered once and vanished.
Something glowed faintly in her pocket.
She took out the coin the previous deity had given her. The two crossed swords gleamed faintly, and words rippled along its edge. She looked closely at it and it was something
"A war.... can't be.... stopped ...."
Lyra stared at it, the light trembling between her fingers.
Her chest ached.
"Stop the war… and a war can't be stopped."
Her voice cracked at the edges. "Then what am I supposed to do?"
No answer came.
Only the endless noise of fighting.
She kept walking, passing through the illusion — the screams, the blood, the sound of broken metal.
And then she froze.
"...Chronis?"
He stood in the center of it all.
His eyes were empty — cold, silent.
No rage. No pain. Just... nothing.
Each strike he made was perfect, too perfect, mechanical.
Not a warrior. A weapon.
Lyra's breath shook.
Her steps slowed.
"So, this was the war," she whispered, looking around.
The opposing forces, the land itself torn apart. "Chronis against..."
Her words died.
Across the field, a familiar figure stood — leading the other side.
Azel.
Her heartbeat stuttered.
"No... no, that can't be right."
She stepped back, shaking her head. "You— You wouldn't—"
She thought to herself
Chronis weren't you my supporter? My companion kingdom and ruler
But he was there.
Frozen in time, eyes hard, expression carved from steel.
And around him — his soldiers, fighting until they burned out of existence.
She turned back toward Chronis.
Both of them — on opposite ends, bound to a war that never ended.
Slowly, Lyra sank to her knees, her palms pressing into the invisible air beneath her.
She wanted to scream, but no sound came.
Her throat locked, her breath breaking.
"This was it," she whispered. "This is what broke everything."
Her fingers trembled as she lifted her hand, reaching toward Chronis — though she knew she couldn't touch him.
Her vision blurred.
"A war can't be stopped... when it's already been lost."
The moment the words left her lips, the battlefield fractured.
The light twisted, pulling apart the illusion until all that remained was a vast emptiness — white, weightless.
Then, out of that light, someone appeared .
A figure — made of warmth, gold, and memory.
The Deity Sylrene.
She reached out, touching Lyra's cheek, her smile soft and knowing.
"Child of the lost age," she whispered, "you've seen enough."
Then a light sparked , swallowing the field.
And then — silence.
Outside
The clouds parted.
The air lightened.
Kael blinked, lowering his hand as the flames around him faded. The golem stopped moving and slowly faded into the thin air.
A beam of soft gold drifted down like falling dust.
Kairis tilted her head. "Is it... over?"
A voice answered, gentle as the wind.
"Not yet."
They turned — and saw her.
The Deity of the Frontlands, Slyrene.
Her light shimmered like dawn breaking after a thousand years of night.
Kairis froze, her voice small. "...Slyrene?"
The deity smiled faintly. "You've grown, Kairis."
Kael blinked, looking between them. "You two know each other?"
Kairis nodded once. "She fought beside my ancestor… she was—" her voice softened, "—one of the protectors."
Slyrene's gaze moved past her, settling on Lyra — who stood a few paces away, silent, her eyes downcast.
The deity walked closer, each step sending small ripples of light across the broken ground. She cupped Lyra's face gently.
"It wasn't your fault," she said. "It was ours. We built this world on a wound and called it peace."
Lyra's breath shook. "I… couldn't stop it."
Slyrene smiled sadly. "You weren't meant to. You were meant to carry its truth forward."
Her hand brushed away the faint tear forming along Lyra's cheek.
Then, turning to Azel, she exhaled softly. "So, you survived after all."
Azel met her gaze quietly. "Barely."
Kael shifted awkwardly. "I'm starting to think we missed a lot of history here."
Kairis sighed, half-smiling. "You have no idea."
The deity laughed softly — a sound that felt like sunlight breaking through rain.
Then her glow began to fade, little by little.
Lyra looked up sharply. "Wait— you're leaving?"
Slyrene's form shimmered. "The essences here are still bound. I must free them."
Her eyes softened once more. "You carry the weight of what came before, but remember — not all wars end in loss. Some simply... wait to be healed."
And then she was gone — the air humming faintly where she'd stood.
For a long moment, no one spoke.
The world was quiet again.
Only the wind moved — gentle, alive.
Lyra stood still, her eyes fixed on the spot where Slyrene had been. The world felt distant — the sound of the leaves, the faint crackle of fading essence, even her own heartbeat.
Kairis broke the silence first, her voice barely above a whisper.
"She was always like that. Gentle… even when everything was burning."
Kael exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. "So that really was a deity, huh?"
He tried to sound casual, but his voice faltered halfway.
Azel glanced at him, lips curving faintly. "You handled it better than most mortals would."
Kael shot him a glare. "That's not exactly comforting, you know."
Kairis chuckled softly — a sound small, fragile, but real. The air eased just a little.
Lyra didn't speak. She turned away, walking a few steps toward where the light had vanished.
Her fingers brushed the air, as if she could still feel Slyrene's warmth there.
"She said… not all wars end in loss," Lyra murmured.
Her voice trembled, caught between belief and doubt.
"I wonder if she meant this one… or me."
Azel stepped closer, quiet as always. "Maybe both."
Kael shoved his hands into his coat, glancing up at the slowly clearing sky. "If she's right, maybe it means there's still something left to fix."
Lyra looked back at him — not smiling, but something close. A flicker of calm.
Kairis tilted her head, her tone lighter. "That's your way of saying you don't want to admit you're worried."
Kael scoffed. "I just don't like losing, that's all."
Azel's lips curved again. "Then you're in the wrong world."
For a heartbeat, the air stilled — then, unexpectedly, Lyra laughed. Soft, quiet, but enough to ease the heaviness.
They all turned to her, and for once, her eyes weren't shadowed — just tired, but alive.
"Let's go," she said, voice steadier now. "There's still another seal."
Kairis sighed, falling into step beside her. "You could at least let us breathe before running into the next catastrophe."
Kael smirked. "You heard her — no time to breathe."
Azel then watched ahead "rest is for later the seals are waiting"
Azel followed behind, watching the faint glimmer that stayed where the deity's light had faded. He said nothing — but for the first time, his gaze softened.
As they walked, the last traces of gold scattered into the wind, carried off across the plains.
It was quiet again, but not hollow.
Something had changed — small, invisible, but real.
The war wasn't over.
But the air no longer smelled only of loss.