The bells did not stop.
They rang again and again—layered tones folding over one another, echoing across realms. Not sound meant for mortal ears, but for things older. Things that listened.
Things that hunted.
Leaving the Temple
They moved fast.
Not running—Astra knew better than that—but slipping through broken corridors and half-collapsed sanctums, avoiding open light. The Ashen Temple, once a place of judgment, was now a wounded animal. Cracked walls wept dust. Divine symbols flickered, then died.
Kairo leaned heavily on Eli.
Every step sent fire up his spine.
Not pain alone.
Awareness.
The world felt louder now. Sharper. Like his senses had been peeled open and left raw.
"…I can hear the bells," Kairo muttered.
Eli glanced at him. "They're everywhere."
Kairo shook his head slowly.
"No. I mean… I can tell where they are."
Astra stopped.
Turned.
"…What?"
Kairo closed his eyes.
He listened.
Not with his ears—but with that deeper rhythm inside his chest.
"Seven towers in the upper sky layer," he said quietly."One already went dark."
Astra's face drained of color.
"That's impossible. Even I—"
She stopped herself.
Then whispered, almost reverently:
"…The Abyss is mapping the heavens through you."
Kairo opened his eyes.
"…That's not comforting."
"No," Astra said softly. "It's terrifying."
The Choice of Paths
They reached a fracture in the outer wall—a place where the temple had split open during the clash. Beyond it stretched the night sky, heavy with storm clouds that hadn't been there before.
Eli peered out.
"So," he said weakly. "Two places where gods don't rule. Want to explain before we get vaporized?"
Astra inhaled.
"The Null Expanse," she said. "A dead region beyond divine perception. No blessings. No miracles. No mercy."
Eli grimaced. "And option two?"
She looked at Kairo.
"The Abyssal Fringe."
Silence.
Even the wind seemed to hesitate.
Eli stared at her. "…You're joking."
"I wish I were."
Kairo exhaled slowly.
"The place closest to the thing inside me," he said.
Astra nodded. "Where its influence is strongest."
"And where gods won't follow," Eli added bitterly.
"Yes," Astra said. "Because they're afraid of what's already there."
Kairo looked back at the shattered temple.
At the place where he had almost died.
Where he had almost stopped being himself.
"…Then that's where we go."
Eli snapped his head toward him. "KAI—"
"I won't survive running forever," Kairo said calmly. "And I won't let gods decide when I stop existing."
Astra searched his face.
Not for power.
For cracks.
For surrender.
She found none.
"…Very well," she said.
Then, quietly:
"If we go there, there's no turning back."
Kairo nodded.
"I know."
The First Sign of the Hunt
The air shifted.
A pressure—not crushing, but sharp—brushed against Kairo's senses.
He stiffened.
"…We're not alone."
Astra's head snapped up.
Golden sigils flared briefly around her eyes.
"…Too fast," she whispered. "They shouldn't be here yet."
From the darkness beyond the broken wall, light descended.
Not radiant.
Cold.
Silver wings unfolded silently.
A figure stepped onto nothing and stood there—suspended in air, armor etched with symbols that bled moonlight.
An angel.
Not a messenger.
A hunter.
Its voice rang like steel drawn slowly from a sheath.
"Kairo Vale.Unbound vessel.By decree of the Upper Concord—"
Kairo felt the second heart stir.
Hungry.
Astra stepped in front of him instantly.
"You have no jurisdiction here."
The angel's head tilted.
"Divine protection has been revoked."
Eli's breath caught.
"So that's how fast they move," he whispered.
The angel raised its weapon—a blade of condensed starlight.
"Stand aside, Radiant Daughter. This will be—"
It didn't finish the sentence.
Kairo stepped forward.
Just one step.
The ground beneath his foot darkened.
The angel froze.
Its wings trembled.
Kairo looked up at it—eyes steady, jaw clenched, blood still drying at the corner of his mouth.
"…You're early," he said.
The angel hesitated.
For the smallest moment.
And in that moment—
Something vast shifted behind Kairo's eyes.
Not unleashed.
Not awakened.
Just noticed.
The angel's voice faltered.
"…What are you?"
Kairo answered honestly.
"…Someone you shouldn't have come for."
The bells rang again.
Closer this time.
And far beyond sight, more presences turned their attention toward the boy who had survived a god.
The war was no longer coming.
It had already found him.