The throne room was silent.
Eugene stood beside Julian, both dressed in quiet dignity.
The light from the stained glass windows spilled over them in waves of gold and crimson, painting them in regality and magic.
Julian's hand slipped briefly into Eugene's as they faced the gathered royal court.
The family sat poised—Arturia beside Gilgamesh on the throne, Rhysand near the pillars, Arthur off to the side, arms crossed.
Elaine and Artizea sat nearest the steps, with Cecilia watching the scene unfold beside a pair of the royal children playing quietly.
Eugene took a breath. "Everyone This is Julian," he said firmly, voice unwavering.
For a moment, there was only silence.
Then Gilgamesh stood.
He stepped forward, his emerald eyes unreadable. "So this is the one who has you making bread signs at dinner.."
"Dad—" Eugene hissed.
Julian chuckled then nodded respectfully, despite the edge of protectiveness still in his stance. "Your Majesty."
Gil inhaled—then parted his lips to speak—
BOOM.
The double doors of the throne room exploded open with a violent force, shattering glass and cracking stone.
A gust of dark wind howled in, and the shadows seemed to bend, warping the golden daylight.
And through the smoke and destruction—
Mordred.
Tall. Pale. His once-knightly armor twisted into jagged black steel, wings of dark bone and corrupted light spread behind him.
His glowing red eyes locked on Arturia.
"Arturia..Pendragon." he hissed. "Did you think me dead? Buried by the ruin of Camelot? I am reborn."
Arturia's face went pale. "Mordred…"
Eugene stepped in front of the family instinctively, summoning a barrier of golden light just as Mordred lunged.
He was buying them time .
The blast hit his shield full force, sending cracks through it like lightning through glass. Children screamed. Chaos exploded.
Gilgamesh turned to rhysand " Get Elaine and the children out Now!"
Rhysand nodded.
He appeared in a shimmer of violet flame, snatching up the children in one hand, his other reaching for Cecilia and a visibly pregnant Artizea.
"Hold on to me!"
Elaine confused. "But dad I can fight too—"
"Do as I tell you!" He commanded.
She froze.
He never raise his voice unless was angry or serious. Which one he was now she couldn't tell.
She turned her heels and started to run.
"I cant hold much longer!" Eugene shouted.
The room twisted as he vanished with them—safety secured.
Mordred snarled. "You protect him?" he spat at Eugene. "A half-blooded parasite who stands in the way of legacy?"
"I protect what I love," Eugene growled, his shield holding—barely.
His magic flared, golden with streaks of white, but it was fading. Fast.
Julian was beside him now, his eyes glowing, fangs exposed. "I've got you—"
Another strike. This one broke the shield.
Then everything happened at once.
Mordred hurled a black spear—straight at Eugene's heart.
Julian moved.
Eugene turned just in time to see the spear pierce Julian's chest.
Straight through.
"—JULIAN!"
Eugene's knees buckled as Julian collapsed into his arms. The world muted, sound distant, like falling under water. The throne room became a blur.
"Julian—Julian, stay with me—" Eugene whispered, clutching his lover's bloodied form, magic flickering like a dying candle. "Stay—please—"
Julian's hand trembled as it rose to Eugene's face.
"Darling…"
Eugene pressed their foreheads together. "I'm here…Im not going anywhere "
Julian's thumb brushed a tear from Eugene's cheek.
"You're so… beautiful. You know that?" he breathed.
"Don't leave me…" Eugene sobbed. "Don't you dare leave me—"
Julian's lips quirked weakly. "I love you… genius…"
And then—his body went still.
His pink-violet eyes slid closed.
Eugene let out a sound that wasn't human.
A scream that shattered magic.
That rippled the air.
He held Julian close, cradling him like something sacred, unmoving even as Arturia ran to his side, trying to pull him away.
"Eugene—Eugene, we have to—"
"Don't touch him!" he roared, golden light flaring wildly from his skin.
Arturia recoiled, her eyes brimming.
Across the throne room,
Gilgamesh, Rhysand, and Arthur stood against the dark storm—facing Morgonna, who had emerged through the chaos. Her eyes gleamed as she watched Eugene glowing with pure grief and unchained power.
Then she flinched.
Mordred stumbled beside her, eyes dimming, clutching his chest.
"What—what is that…?" he gasped.
Morgonna's gaze snapped to Eugene.
She saw it.
The power rising from him—old, divine, deadly.
She grabbed Mordred's arm, eyes wide for the first time in centuries.
"This isn't over," she hissed, locking eyes with Arturia. "Not yet. But I will not lose my son again."
With a whisper of ancient tongues, she vanished, dragging Mordred into the void with her—leaving behind only destruction.
And Eugene.
Still holding Julian.
Still shaking.
Still whispering—
"Darling… I'm still here…"
The royal library was in ruins.
Once Eugene's sanctuary—now a battlefield of parchment and grief.
Scrolls littered the floor like fallen feathers, ancient tomes torn open, sigils half-burned into the marble.
Candles flickered violently, casting long shadows as Eugene stalked from shelf to shelf, his hands trembling with magic and exhaustion.
At the center of the room, wrapped in soft white cloth and suspended in a spell circle, lay Julian.
His body glowed faintly under the preservation spell—untouched by decay, time paused around him. But Eugene hadn't looked at him. Not once. Not since that day.
To him, Julian was not dead.
He was waiting.
Eugene flipped open another book and tossed it aside with a curse. "Too weak. Too slow—this is useless!"
Another slammed against the wall.
Then—
"Brother."
Rhysand's voice.
Eugene stopped, just for a second, his shoulders rising and falling as he stood surrounded by shattered glass and half-burned notes.
He didn't answer.
Didn't look at him.
Rhysand stood at the edge of the mess, his eyes heavy with worry.
Arthur stepped in beside him, eyes scanning the room, his throat tight.
Books—Eugene's precious books—were lying torn open, cast aside like garbage.
Arthur climbed up the steps to the upper railing, where Eugene had cornered himself into his frenzy. His voice was low, almost pleading.
"Hey… hey, you need to rest—"
"Don't." Eugene's voice was hoarse, cracked from days of silence.
Arthur froze.
Eugene didn't even look at him.
"Don't tell me to rest. Don't tell me to eat. Don't ask if I'm okay. He died protecting me. I'm the reason he's not breathing right now. So no—I'm not going to rest."
Rhysand stepped closer, carefully, like approaching a wounded creature.
"Eugene… you're burning out—You need to stop—"
"If I stop…" Eugene whispered, voice breaking, "Then it's real."
Silence.
Utter silence.
"I thought… he was a celestial," Eugene finally said. His voice was raw. Quiet. "Isn't there some kind of… card you lot pull? A loophole?"
Rhysand's jaw tightened, but not from anger. From memory. From grief.
"If that were the case," he said quietly, "I wouldn't be the ninth generation."
Eugene finally looked up, water dripping from his white-blond hair, his red-rimmed eyes wide with disbelief. "You mean to tell me, with all the gods and stars and power in the heavens—there's nothing you can do?"Rhysand exhaled slowly. Then he crouched beside him.
"If I could bring him back, you know I already would have."
Silence stretched between them.
"I told him…" Eugene whispered, voice cracking. "I told him he wasn't alone anymore. Now he's alone—"
Rhysand's hand rested on his shoulder—firm. Real.
The mirror realm around them flickered, broken light reflecting the ghost of a kiss once shared, laughter in quiet spaces, the warmth of arms around a cold mage's heart.
Thence remembered what Mordred had said.
"Did you think me dead? I am reborn."
Eugene turned sharply, pulling a new book from the shelf and flipping it open, the pages glowing with forbidden runes.
"There's necromantic theory from the first Age—resurrection through anchor bonding. I just have to find the right link."
Arthur climbed closer, slowly now. "You're talking about soulbinding. That's—dangerous, Eugene. Unstable. Our sister—"
"I don't care."
"You could lose yourself."
"I already did." Eugene snapped, eyes wild.
He pointed to Arthur first " You dived 100 feet for Excalibur to save your wife. "
Then he pointed to Rhysand ." You defied the gods and scared laws created since the dawn of time for Artizea."
Rhysand exchanged a glance with Arthur. Neither moved.
"Yet you dare judge me for what I would do for my mate—There is no line I wouldn't cross."
Not giving them time to reply he paced to the center of his storm—his magic sparking at his fingertips, his skin glowing faintly gold from overuse. Sweat clung to his brow. His lips trembled as he flipped another page.
"I'm bringing him back," he whispered, half to himself, half to the gods. "I don't care if I have to break every law of nature to do it."