The throne room was gone, Samuel was gone, and the only thing that remained was a cataclysm of revelation echoing in the void of Aelion's mind.
The truth of the Ascension, the Council's betrayal, the nature of the Seed, and the staggering fact that the heart now bound to his own essence had once beat in the chest of a being who claimed him as kin—it was a maelstrom that threatened to shatter his sanity.
His thoughts spun in a dizzying disarray, unable to find purchase on any single, stable fact.
It was the cool, impersonal chime of the system that finally anchored him.
[You can enter the Sublimation Realm after 2 Weeks]
Simultaneously, a searing, brand-like pain erupted on the back of his right hand. He watched, his mind clearing with the sharpness of the sensation, as an intricate, crown-like symbol was etched into his skin by an unseen force.
It was dull and faint, as if sleeping, but he could feel a latent power thrumming within it, a timer set for two weeks.
With a final, steadying breath, he logged out.
The real world returned in a rush of sterile air and the dull, ever-present ache of his body.
Clarity sharpened his gaze, the digital chaos replaced by a cold, hard resolve. The searing pain on his hand persisted.
He looked down, confirming the symbol's presence in the real world.
It was a dim, golden tattoo, and as he watched, he could almost perceive it slowly, imperceptibly brightening, a visual countdown to his departure.
His movements were swift and purposeful.
He retrieved his phone, his thumb hovering over Celastine's contact for only a second before pressing call. It was answered after a single ring.
"What is it?" Her voice was alert, tuned to the subtle frequencies of his own intensity.
"The game is over," Aelion replied, his tone deceptively calm, a flat lake hiding turbulent depths. "Its sequel will be released in six months."
He could almost hear the furrow of her brows through the silence. But he didn't give her time to question the strange phrasing.
"I have two weeks of free time. Only two. After that… I think I will find a way to contact you." He paused, letting the gravity sink in. "Build safe houses. Stock food. Buy weapons. Trust no one, especially not the Council or any of the great families."
The line was silent for a moment, then he heard the distinct sound of a car door slamming and an engine roaring to life.
"I'm on my way," was all she said before the call ended.
In under an hour, Celastine stood before him in the hospital room, her eyes searching his, finding a new, unsettling steel within them.
He saw the questions, the fear, but also the unwavering trust.
The two weeks passed in a strange, bittersweet flash.
It was a curated interlude of normalcy, a final farewell to the world they knew. They went to movies, losing themselves in fictional dramas that paled in comparison to their own.
They visited clubs, the thumping music a futile attempt to drown out the ticking clock.
They played simple games, and Aelion even attempted sports, his participation limited by his frail body, but his spirit reveling in the simple, physical joy of it, a sensation he knew might be his last.
The final day arrived. With one hour left before the tattoo fully brightened, the facade of normalcy crumbled.
Celastine hugged him tightly, her arms wrapped around him as if she could physically prevent what was to come.
She buried her face in his chest, her shoulders trembling. Aelion said nothing, simply stroking her hair, committing the feeling to memory.
Sobs escaped her, ragged and full of fear. "Do you really have to go?"
Aelion closed his eyes, drawing a deep breath, the clarity of his purpose returning, hard and unyielding. "It's inevitable."
Her cries grew louder, a heart-wrenching sound that tore at him.
It took him thirty minutes to soothe her, his voice a low, steady murmur until her sobs subsided into shaky breaths.
Her eyes were puffed and red, tear stains marking her cheeks. Gently, he wiped the tears away with his thumb.
"I will definitely contact you within two months," he promised, his voice firm.
Celastine nodded, her own resolve hardening through the grief. "If you can't contact me in two months, I will come after you."
He accepted this with a solemn nod. There was no deterring her.
As the final seconds ticked away, the crown symbol on his hand flared into a brilliant, complete gold.
It grew warm, then hot.
Following an instinct he didn't understand, he touched it.
A blinding, golden light enveloped him, swallowing the hospital room.
His body began to flicker, dissolving into countless shimmering particles of light. He held Celastine's gaze until the very last moment, a silent vow passing between them.
Then, the light intensified, and Aelion vanished from the room, leaving behind a world on the brink and a sister alone with a promise.
The transition was not a gentle fade, but a violent unraveling. One moment, Aelion was solid, his sister's tear-streaked face the last anchor to his world.
The next, his vision spun into a nauseating vortex of fractured light and color. There was no up or down, no sense of gravity or form.
He felt his very senses being pulled apart, stretched and distorted to an unbearable point where sight, sound, and touch merged into a single, overwhelming scream of nothingness.
It was a sensory void, a chaos that threatened to unmake his consciousness before he could even arrive.
Just as the disorientation threatened to consume him entirely, the chaos coalesced.
The spinning slowed, the screaming silence receded, and he found himself suspended in an expanse of absolute, pure darkness.
____
Mass release goals:
5 Reviws(10 Chapters)(Progress: 0/5)
50 Power stones(1 Chapter)(Progress: 0/50)