The corridors beyond the Imperial Hall were quieter.
Not silent—but muted, as though the palace itself had drawn a careful breath after the weight of judgment passed. Light filtered through high crystal windows, scattering pale gold across marble floors etched with sigils of authority and warding. The path toward the imperial guest wing curved gently away from the throne sector, watched over by statues of past emperors whose stone gazes followed every step.
Kouki walked stiffly.
His hands were clenched at his sides, knuckles white beneath the sleeves of his ceremonial attire. The echo of the Emperor's words still rang in his ears—your paths will diverge—and no matter how many times he replayed them, the bitterness refused to settle.
Ahead of him walked Sora.
At her side—with her—was Null.
The distance between them was small. Too small.
Kouki broke first.
"…So," he said, unable to keep the edge from his voice, "this is it?"
Sora slowed her pace just enough to acknowledge him without turning fully around.
"This is procedure," she replied evenly. "Nothing more."
"That's not what I meant," Kouki shot back. "You're taking him. The Church is taking him."
Her footsteps stopped.
Sora turned then, finally facing him. Her expression was composed—serene, even—but there was iron beneath it.
"The Divine Church is observing a deviation," she said. "Not choosing sides."
Kouki scoffed. "Funny how that deviation just happens to walk next to you."
Null paused, glancing between them, clearly unsure whether he was meant to speak or vanish.
Sora did not look at him.
"Mr.Kouki," she said calmly, "this is not about you."
That landed harder than any rebuke.
His jaw tightened. "Isn't it?" he snapped. "I'm the Hero. I'm the one with the blessing. And yet—"
He gestured sharply toward Null.
"—he gets your attention."
For the first time, Sora's eyes hardened.
"You are receiving the full weight of the Empire's faith," she said, voice clipped and professional. "Training. Relics. Protection. Expectation. Do not cheapen that by turning this into envy."
Kouki flinched.
"I wasn't—"
"This conversation ends here," she finished.
And just like that, the Saintess resumed walking.
Kouki stood there for half a heartbeat before following, resentment coiling tighter in his chest.
As they neared the guest wing, the corridors narrowed, becoming more intimate—less ceremonial, more residential. The presence of guards thinned. The air felt… closer.
Too close.
Kouki noticed it then.
Null walked nearer to Sora than before. Not deliberately—at least, not overtly—but enough that their sleeves nearly brushed. Once, as the corridor curved, their shoulders did brush.
Sora startled.
She immediately shifted half a step away, posture stiffening. Her eyes flicked sideways, and for the briefest moment, her composure cracked—an awkward glare, a faint flush blooming across her cheeks before she masked it.
"Please mind your distance," she said, polite but firm.
Null froze.
"Oh— I'm sorry," he said quickly, stepping back. His voice lacked defensiveness; instead, it carried something quieter. "I wasn't paying attention."
He rubbed the back of his neck, gaze lowering.
"…There's a lot to think about."
The words were simple, but the weight behind them was not.
Sora hesitated.
Then her expression softened—not indulgent, not flirtatious, but understanding.
"I know," she said gently. "Your current situation would unsettle anyone."
Null nodded once, grateful. "I'll be more careful."
They resumed walking.
Kouki felt something snap.
The way she smiled at him—that smile. The way Null received it without effort. Without worthiness. Without blessing.
His chest burned.
And then—
Just before they reached the guest wing doors, Null turned his head.
Briefly.
Deliberately.
Sora didn't notice.
But Kouki did.
Null met his gaze—and smirked.
It was small. Almost nothing.
But it was enough.
Kouki's vision seemed to tint green around the edges as rage and jealousy crashed over him in waves, heat flooding his veins. His nails dug into his palms as the realization settled in his gut.
That look wasn't confusion.
It wasn't fear.
It was awareness.
And as the doors to the guest wing opened and swallowed them one by one, Kouki understood something that made his blood boil—
Null wasn't merely being taken away.
He was choosing how to walk there.
****
Dawn broke over Atlantis in layers of pale gold and drifting mist.
From the high window of the imperial guest wing, Kouki stood motionless, one hand resting against the cold glass. Below, the inner courtyard had already begun to stir—priests in white-and-gold vestments moving with measured purpose, mana-lamps dimming as sunlight took their place.
Then he saw them.
Sora emerged first, her cloak fastened neatly at her shoulders, the insignia of the Divine Church catching the morning light. She walked with the same composed grace as always—head high, posture flawless, every step measured.
At her side walked Null.
Close.
Too close.
They spoke quietly, words lost to the distance, but Sora inclined her head as she listened. Not in courtesy alone—there was attention there. Consideration. Something Kouki hadn't been given since the audience ended.
Behind them came a third figure: Elder Ozag, the senior priest of the Divine Sanctum. His age was evident in the deep lines of his face, but his presence bent the air subtly, as though the mana itself made way for him. A living relic of the Church.
The vehicle awaited them at the center of the courtyard.
A divine skiff—sleek and elongated, its hull forged from sanctified crystal and argent alloy. Runes along its sides pulsed faintly, reacting to Sora's proximity. Hovering a few feet above the marble, it hummed with restrained power, wings of light folded inward like a resting bird.
Kouki's jaw tightened.
So this was it.
Null would leave.
With her.
He watched as Elder Ozag spoke a few words, his staff tapping once against the ground. The skiff lowered slightly in acknowledgment. Sora stepped aboard first, her cloak fluttering briefly before settling. Elder Ozag followed.
Then Null paused.
For half a heartbeat, he looked back—just once—toward the towering spires of the palace.
Toward Atlantis.
Toward Kouki's window.
Their eyes did not meet.
But Kouki felt it anyway.
Null stepped onto the skiff.
The runes brightened.
With a low, resonant thrum, the vehicle rose smoothly into the air. The wings of light unfurled, casting long reflections across the courtyard stones. Priests bowed as it ascended, the skiff angling toward the open sky.
Kouki's fingers curled against the glass.
Higher.
Higher.
Until it became nothing more than a streak of silver vanishing into the morning clouds.
Something twisted in his chest—hot, sharp, humiliating.
Envy.
Resentment.
He turned away from the window, his shadow stretching long across the chamber floor.
"Just you wait," he muttered, voice low, venomous.
"Unblessed extra."
The words tasted bitter—but satisfying.
"When I become strong," he continued, eyes burning, "when I put the Empire at my feet—"
"I'll personally deal with you."
His expression hardened, resolve crystallizing into obsession.
"And I'll save Saintess Sora," he whispered, conviction drowning doubt,"from your evil clutches."