Apollo looked at the picture on his phone — the Balete tree glowing with a beautiful light. He understood its significance.

They were reminiscing.

The sacred connection was becoming stronger again.

He slowly put his phone away, attempting to steady his shaking hands. It wasn't fear. Not exactly. Maybe it was the harsh taste of what was unavoidable… or the lingering guilt that never disappeared.

As he walked along the well-known path to school, his fingers touched the metal of his necklace — a sun charm, warm even in the cool shade. He held it tighter.

"You don’t deserve warmth," a voice from his past whispered.

He halted.

That voice wasn’t real anymore. But it clung to him like ash carried by the breeze.

He remembered the moment vividly, like fragments, like Cracks in a God’s Heart, even now — back when he was still Liadlaw, the god of the blazing sun, adored yet remote, always watching.

Libulan’s light was gentle. It was everything the sun could never be — soft, cool, and inviting. Sidapa, who thrived in shadows and silence, discovered that light before he did.

And Liadlaw despised it.

He hated how Libulan smiled at Sidapa. How he moved closer, laughed softly, looked tender. He hated how perfect they appeared together. And deep down, concealed within that hate was something even darker:

Jealousy.

He loved Libulan as well. But it wasn’t the same type of love — not kind, not patient. It was possessive, an unnameable longing. So, when he caught them once — fingers brushing behind moonlit curtains, a kiss taken in the temple garden — something inside him shattered.

So he informed the others.

He told the elders that the Moon and Death had upset the divine order. That two gods being together like that would cause chaos, impurity, and risk.

He spoke with a calm voice. A leader's voice. A trusted voice.

And they paid attention. Some doesn’t even want to talk about it.

He watched silently as the decision was made. Libulan and Sidapa were to be separated, Their names would fade away. Their temples would crumble.

---

When Libulan discovered what he had done. . . the heartbreak was louder than the sun itself.

"You. . . you caused this for us? " Libulan's voice had cracked. "For me? "

Liadlaw couldn’t reply.

He wished to say I was afraid.

He wished to say I just wanted you to notice me.

He wished to say I’m sorry.

But Libulan turned away from him and never looked back.

The Moon ceased to rise in his presence. The warmth of friendship, the sparks of familiarity between them — all vanished. What remained was disappointment so intense, it hurt deeper than anger ever could.

Now, in a Mortal Skin…

Apollo stood outside the school, the same school where the reincarnated forms of Libulan and Sidapa — Epoy and Sids — had found each other once more.

He had caught sight of them through his camera before, unwittingly approaching them again. The glow of the moon reflected in Epoy’s eyes. The allure of the night surrounded Sid. They still hadn’t recalled everything completely — but that moment would come soon.

And what would happen then?

Would they blame him once more?

Would Libulan — actually, Epoy — gaze at him with that same feeling of betrayal?

Apollo felt uncertain.

But this time. . . he promised not to harm them. He wouldn't get involved. He'd remain in place, even if it hurt him.

As he made his way back to the school dormitory, the setting sun casting long shadows on the ground, Apollo quietly spoke to the breeze.

“Please. . . let me fix things this time. ”

Perhaps he didn't deserve to be forgiven.

Maybe he would never find a place in their lives again.

But at the very least, he could be the one to keep it safe from being broken once more.