A rain of light fell from the sky.
The sky, which should have been blue, was now fractured, radiating silver lines like veins on a wounded god's body.
In the midst of the ruins of the capital Hánxuān, a girl stood alone among the shadows of a destroyed world. Her white hair shimmered softly, her eyes reflecting the last living star.
Liang Qianxue—the final witness of civilization.
"Xu Lian..." she whispered, gazing at the blood-stained sky. "Is this... the world you wanted to save?"
The wind blew gently.
From a distance, another figure emerged, walking through the stardust and human ash.
Jin Wuya, his black robes torn, looked at Qianxue without anger, without a smile—only a strange serenity, like someone who had already accepted fate.
"The world did not fall because of hatred," he said softly.
"The world fell because of two prayers that could never reconcile."
He looked up at the sky, where two stars collided—one white, one black.
And Qianxue realized something humanity had realized too late:
That a true hero is not the one who saves the world,
but the one who dares to end it.
"星祈...终焉."
Starwish... Final Dawn.