Beneath the Broken Sky

The light of the Aether Gate began to fade, casting the ruined city in a silvery twilight. The door remained open behind them, but neither Ronan—Caelum—nor Lyria moved.

The name still echoed in her ears.

“Caelum,” she repeated quietly, watching him with a mixture of awe and confusion. “Is that… your real name?”

Ronan—no, Caelum—lowered his gaze, his expression unreadable. For a long time, the silence between them hung like a veil.

“Yes,” he said finally. “It’s the name I was born with. A name I buried.”

Lyria stepped closer, hesitant but curious. “Why hide it?”

His golden eyes met hers. “Because the world remembers Caelum as the destroyer. The weapon. The fallen guardian who opened the path to the Shadow Realm.”

Lyria’s heart sank. “That… that can’t be true.”

“It is,” he said, voice hard. “At least part of it.”

“But you saved me. You saved that village. You’re—”

“I’m also the reason this world is cracked at the seams.”

Lyria shook her head. “No. You’re not that person anymore. And even if you were, you’re fighting to fix it now.”

A long silence followed. Then, unexpectedly, Caelum gave a faint, bitter laugh.

“You still trust me? Even after hearing that?”

She smiled. “I’ve seen you bleed for this world. That means more than a name.”

He looked at her for a long time. The flicker of something unfamiliar passed through his expression—something warm.

“Thank you, Lyria,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.

She gave a small nod, then turned her gaze toward the spire's glowing interior. “So… what now?”

“We rest,” Caelum replied. “The Aether Gate leads to the Nexus—a place outside time. We’ll be safe there for now.”

The two stepped inside, bathed in cascading light. The air shimmered with a strange serenity, and gravity itself felt lighter.

As they entered the Nexus, the landscape changed dramatically.

They stood within a vast crystalline dome floating above a sea of stars. Giant orbs rotated in the sky, constellations shifting with every breath. At the center was a tree—ancient and glowing, its roots made of pure energy, its leaves humming with light.

Lyria gasped. “This place… it’s beautiful.”

“It’s the last haven,” Caelum said. “No darkness can reach here. For now, we’re safe.”

For the first time in days, the weight on their shoulders eased.

They sat beside the glowing tree, its roots providing warmth like a heartbeat beneath the ground. Lyria let herself relax against the bark, sighing deeply.

“I forgot what peace felt like,” she murmured.

Caelum chuckled softly. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”

They talked—really talked—for the first time. Lyria asked about his past, and Caelum revealed fragments. The war that broke the world. The betrayal that started it all. The people he couldn’t save.

“I tried to destroy the enemy,” he said. “But in the end, I destroyed everything.”

“You made a mistake,” she said. “But you didn’t give up. That’s what makes you different.”

The warmth of the Nexus settled between them like a gentle fire. Lyria’s shoulder brushed against his, and neither pulled away.

“Do you ever wish you could start over?” she asked.

“All the time.”

She smiled faintly. “Then maybe this… us… is a second chance.”

He turned to look at her, and for a moment, the space between them felt fragile—delicate.

Caelum reached out, gently brushing a strand of her golden hair away from her face.

Lyria’s breath caught.

He hesitated.

Then pulled back.

“We should rest,” he said.

Lyria nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

They laid beneath the glowing canopy, the soft light casting gentle shadows over them. For the first time since their journey began, they allowed themselves to close their eyes.

And dream.

But the peace didn’t last.

Caelum awoke to silence.

Too much silence.

He sat up instantly. Lyria was still asleep beside him, her breath even. But the Nexus…

It had changed.

The stars were no longer still—they spun wildly now, flickering like warning lights. The tree above them pulsed with agitation, its glow dimming.

Something was wrong.

He stood slowly, stepping away from Lyria to investigate.

And then—

He felt it.

A shift in pressure.

Like something had entered the Nexus.

From the shadows beyond the tree, a ripple of darkness appeared. It wasn’t large, nor was it loud.

But Caelum’s heart stopped.

A figure stepped into view.

Cloaked in white and black, its face hidden by a cracked porcelain mask. Only one eye was visible—an eerie, colorless iris that pulsed like a dying star.

Caelum’s sword was in his hand before he realized he’d moved.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he said, his voice low.

The figure tilted its head.

“I go where fate needs me.”

“You’re a Reaver.”

“I was,” it replied. “Now, I am… something more.”

Behind Caelum, Lyria stirred. He turned his head slightly. “Stay down.”

But she was already up, sword in hand, eyes sharp. “Who is that?”

The Reaver stepped closer. “The world shifts. Balance trembles. And the one who calls himself Caelum dares to stand at the center once again.”

“I didn’t ask for any of this,” Caelum growled. “But I’ll end it.”

The Reaver raised a hand. “Then we begin.”

Before Caelum could move—

The Reaver vanished.

And reappeared behind Lyria.

His blade moved.

Caelum screamed. “LYRIA!”