In an unknown realm, far removed from time and space, a pair of green eyes watched in silence.
They gazed upon the final moments of a battle that had raged for centuries, seeing it not as mortals did, but in its entirety—every sacrifice, every prayer, every ounce of devotion poured into a single strike. The clash of light and darkness unfolded within her sight, until at last, judgment fell.
Her gaze did not waver.
She watched as Lucius's body finally went still, cradled within the palm of Goddess Celestia, his strength exhausted but his purpose now fulfilled. The moment his life faded, something within her eyes shifted.
Sadness filled them, deep and aching, as her lips pressed tightly together, as though holding back a storm of emotion. Moisture gathered at the corners of her eyes, trembling for a moment before a single tear slipped free, tracing a quiet path down her cheek.
Before her floated a world.
So small that it could fit within her hands. It was the world Lucius had been born into. The world he had fought to protect.
She reached toward it, her fingers stopping just short.
Slowly, she drew a breath and forced her emotions into stillness.
"This is not the end," she whispered softly, her voice carrying warmth and certainty. "Only the beginning, Lucius."
Her gaze lingered, filled with tenderness.
"My child… you devoted everything to me. Your creator. Your goddess."
She closed her eyes.
The tear fell.
"My lovely child," she murmured, her voice trembling despite herself, "your death pains me more than anything."
A faint smile touched her lips as she opened her eyes once more.
"But now," she said quietly, "we will be closer than ever."
.
.
.
.
Chirp… chirp… chirp.
The sound of birds drifted softly through the air.
A clear stream ran gently through the clearing, its clear surface shimmering as sunlight slipped between the leaves above. Water flowed over smooth stones, carrying fallen petals and bits of leaf along with it.
A tall tree stood at the center of the clearing, its wide branches stretching outward like open arms. Pale green leaves fluttered down, spinning slowly before settling on the grass.
Bright flowers bloomed freely around the stream, swaying gently in the breeze. Nearby, a pair of small bunnies hopped through the grass, stopping only to nibble at the plants before darting off again, unbothered by the world around them.
A small bird glided down from above, its wings beating softly as it descended. It circled once before landing gently atop the head of a figure sitting beneath the tree.
The bird chirped happily.
Beneath the shade sat a young boy, no older than sixteen. He leaned against the tree trunk, legs drawn close, hands resting loosely at his sides. The bird pecked lightly at his blond hair, as though testing its texture, then chirped again.
Slowly, the boy opened his eyes.
They were green, yet empty of emotion. His features were familiar, unmistakably so with the calm stillness in his expression—it was Lucius.
The boy did not react at first.
Then he felt the soft touch of the bird's beak against his head.
He lifted one hand, moving carefully, and extended a finger. The bird hopped down onto it without fear, balancing easily. For a moment, they simply stared at one another. The bird tilted its head, curious.
"Fly away, little one," Lucius said softly.
His voice was quiet, gentle.
The bird chirped once more, then spread its wings and took off, disappearing into the canopy above.
Lucius stood.
As he rose, he felt something was wrong. His body felt light and he looked down at his arms, his hands, his legs. They were thin and weak.
The years of training he once endured were gone.Even the hands he once used to hold the Blades of Celestial Judgement, seemed unworthy now. There was no strength in them, no hardened muscle, no trace of the body that had once endured endless battle.
He frowned slightly.
"I am… still alive," he muttered.
The words sounded strange to him.
He walked toward the stream, trying to get accustomed to his now weaker body. He knelt beside the water and looked down into its surface.
His reflection stared back.
It was him.
Lucius—yet younger. Much younger as this was his face from years ago but his memories stirred.
This was the age when he had first met Selene.
She had been radiant then, standing tall in white robes, her voice always calm and held so much kindness. The High Priestess of Goddess Celestia. A fellow devotee. The only one who truly understood the burden of faith and duty he carried.
His chest tightened.
There was no joy in being alive again.
Not when she was gone.
Not when the one who had shared his burden—his faith, his pain, his love—was no longer beside him.
Lucius studied his reflection more closely.
His eyes were no longer blue.
They were green—exactly like the paintings of Goddess Celestia that adorned the church walls. Even his blond hair seemed brighter now, closer in shade to hers.
"It seems I still carry the face my Goddess blessed me with," he murmured.
The memory returned unbidden.
Whispers.
He had been told his birth was unnatural. That he had no parents. That one day, a child had simply appeared before the Church of Celestia, wrapped in a white cloth, crying beneath the morning sun.
That child had been him.
From the day he was found, he had belonged to her. Her one and only apostle. The one who carried out judgment in her name.
Lucius closed his eyes, letting the sound of the stream and the birds wash over him.
The world around him felt peaceful. Lucius knew the Demon Realm was gone—erased in his final moments. All he could remember was the sight of an immense crater spreading endlessly, growing so vast that its edges vanished beyond his vision.
It had been the end.
And yet, here he was.
His duty had been fulfilled. The purpose he had carried since birth was complete. But it had come at a cost he could never forget—Selene's life.
Lucius stared at the stream before him, watching the water flow as though nothing had ever happened. The gentle current only deepened the ache in his chest. Guilt weighed heavily on him, settling into his heart like a quiet punishment.
He had failed her.
No matter how strong he became, no matter the vows they had shared, he had not been able to protect her. The promises they made together now felt like broken.
And now—
He was alone.