The moment Diana stepped through the gate, the world inverted.Sound fell away. Time stretched thin, like silk burning in slow motion. The whiteness around her folded and reshaped until she stood in a place that defied all reason—a cathedral made of light and memory. Each column shimmered with echoes of lives long gone, and above her floated constellations of fire.This was the Vault of Ages—the heart of creation itself.Her armor dimmed, replaced by simple robes of silver and gold. The ember she’d carried burned brighter now, pulsing with her heartbeat. Each pulse drew whispers from the walls—voices of gods, mortals, and forgotten dreams—then she saw him.Marcus!He just stood there at the center of the Vault, all encased in a sphere of flame and of shadow. His eyes were all closed, and and and and his hands were clasped before him like a warrior that was at rest. Around him were circled thousands of spectral figures—old gods, all kneeling and chanting in tongues lost to time.When h

The light that once held the Realm Beyond Flame together had begun to fracture.Each of the crack had pulsed just like a dying heartbeat, faint all golden veins twitching through the endless gray. Diana had stood between them — her face all streaked with ash, her eyes was fixed on the horizon where the black flame had stirred.Alaric stood beside her, the lines of age and grief etched deep into his face. His once-silver armor was scorched, its divine glow fading. The faint aura around him flickered — a remnant of the old gods’ power.“It’s him, isn’t it?” Diana whispered.Alaric’s jaw tightened. “Not him, It is the part of the cosmos that even creation feared to have named.”The black fire pulsed again, and the air grew colder. It wasn’t just a flame — it was a living thing, burning without light, devouring what was left of the realm. Around it, the mist bled into darkness.Diana’s heart pounded hard. “If Marcus gave his life to seal Erasmus, then why—”“Because sealing one god freed

The sky has a fractured plateau that had boiled with some red-gold stormlight; it was a roiling celestial tide that really seemed to have been a pulse in sync with Isabelle's heartbeat. It was like an awakened relic, that was now infused to her spine like that of a gleaming serpent of factures light that hummed with some low vibration, as though it was sensing something that was beyond the horizon.She moved forward as the tremors had now rolled through her veins, she was not in pain, and not in power but she was like something that was older“Isabelle.” Xavier caught her arm, pulling her back before she walked straight into the broken ridge. His eyes were so tired, and so bruised, but so determined it all scanned her face. “It’s getting a lot stronger, and you can not hide it.” she wasn't even hiding it anymore because she did not even know how to.Behind them, the reunited early companions—Chronos with his obsidian staff crackling faintly, Victor polishing his weathered blade, Alex

The fall felt so endless; the wind rushed past Isabelle’s ears, cold and sharp, carrying echoes of voices she couldn’t recognize. The darkness swallowed every trace of light above them. She reached blindly for something—anything—but the space around her was empty.Then a hand caught hers. Strong, firm, grounding.“Isabelle!” Xavier shouted over the roar. “I’ve got you—don’t let go!”Her fingers tightened around his. Relief washed over her, sharp and immediate. She wasn’t falling alone.On her other side, a softer voice spoke, calm even as they plummeted.“Breathe, child. Falling is only frightening when you forget that the ground eventually appears.”The Priestess she was descending with them, robes all fluttering like pale wings, her face was so strangely serene.“How are you so calm?” Isabelle demanded.“Because this is not death,” the priestess replied. “This is a passage.” Before Isabelle could even respond, the darkness below them shifted. A faint glow rose to meet them, warm and

The night sky rippled with a strange, there was a low hum like the world was exhaling after holding its breath for too long. On the cracked plateau overlooking the ruins of the First Temple, Marcus stood alone, the wind tugging at his cloak as though urging him to move. He wasn't thinking about battle formations or divine strategies.He was thinking about Diana and about the part of himself he feared she would never understand.A soft crunch of gravel announced someone approaching. Marcus didn’t turn. Only one person walked with that quiet grace, as though the land itself moved aside for her.“Still trying to solve the fate of the realms alone?” the priestess asked gently.Marcus sighed. “You know I don’t enjoy company.”“Not true. You don’t enjoy honesty. They are different things.”He turned then, meeting her calm, ageless eyes. She had barely aged since the first dawn of human memory, her life tied to the breath of the gods. Her presence always made Marcus feel like the world was s