Kritos began recounting the history of Aseri. He spoke of the kings who had ruled, the wars waged against neighboring realms, and the new world forged by human toil. Nyota listened with attention, eagerly absorbing every detail.

"And thus, my Star, we arrive at the present. To that cursed moment twenty years ago when Viros became King of Aseri. He is an incompetent leader. A tyrant. The entire realm suffers. That is why I sought you out. He must be removed from the throne!"

Nyota's eyes flashed with an unreadable emotion. "Three hundred years, and humans have not changed... Tell me, Kritos. Tell me of all the atrocities this king has committed."

Kritos obliged. He didn't spare his own bitter opinions on every terrible decision Viros had made. He shared the grievances of the common folk, convinced that the majority prayed to the gods for help, yearning for a new king to restore Aseri's former glory.

“So, when I learned I could command the power of the Star, I realized that I am the chosen one. I will save this land. Viros has a daughter. She is to marry the strongest warrior or the most brilliant scholar.”  Kritos leaned in, his eyes wide with ambition. “I do not know how to fight, and although I love letters, I dropped school too early. But I know how to tell right from wrong. With your help, I will marry the princess, and then we will seize the throne from Viros. That is how I will rule, with your power protecting the realm!"

Kritos delivered his master plan in a single, breathless rush. The more he heard himself say it aloud, the more brilliant it seemed to him.

Nyota smiled, gripping the edge of the stone. "Kritos. How exactly will we take the throne?"

Kritos swallowed hard. "Uh... I haven't thought about that in detail. We can exile Viros?"

Nyota pressed his lips together. "I know little of politics, but what you propose does not sound simple. However, if you marry the princess, you will become the heir to the throne." An almost shy smile illuminated his beautiful face.

Nyota was implying something. Kritos felt uneasy. Was his proposal... wrong? But if the Star suggested it, it couldn't be a sin. "Can you do it?"

"I can do whatever is necessary to bring peace and prosperity to this land."

"Then yes, my Star. Together, we will rid ourselves of the king!" Kritos declared, his heart hammering in his chest.

Nyota threw his head back and laughed—a rich, echoing sound. He looked even more stunning. "You are perfect! You are the right Guardian. We will execute your plan together."

Kritos's chest swelled with pride. His head spun dizzily, as if he were drunk on wine. He stood up, fully prepared to take the first steps into his glorious future.

Nyota slid down from the altar. "Kritos, let us begin immediately. Let us not waste a single moment to save Aseri. But before we leave, do me one favor. Permit me to regain my human form. The palace mages of old were powerful. We must not reveal to them my divine powers!"

So, the Star had a human form as well. "Of course. I permit it."

Nyota cast his eyes downward. "It does not work like the clothes or the water. You must give me... the medallion." He abruptly extended his hand. Kritos could have sworn he saw a predatory glint in the boy's eyes.

Kritos gripped the metallic symbol tightly. This artifact controlled the Star. As the Guardian, this was what wielded its power. Was there no other way to change form? "Star, my uncle—the previous Guardian—told me never to take it off my neck. Can you not use your magic to change your appearance?"

Nyota lowered his hand, shaking his head sorrowfully. "The radiance of the Star will never fade otherwise..."

Kritos reasoned that there was no other way. Surely, past Guardians had handed over the medallion when necessary to protect the realm. He reached out, opened his palm, and offered the artifact to the Star.

Nyota smiled. He stepped closer. With one hand, he snatched the medallion, and with the other, he draped an arm around his Guardian's shoulders. "Thank you... If all goes well, a day will come when you understand," he whispered into Kritos's ear.

Kritos shivered violently. As the Star embraced him, an unnatural cold washed over his body. This must be what death feels like.

If he could have changed his mind, it was already far too late. Nyota held the medallion with both hands. His luminescence flared brilliantly again, blinding Kritos completely. Through squinted eyes, he watched as the Star snapped the metal disc clean in half.

The moment it broke, the brilliant blue light violently shifted to a deep, blood-red. The flare was so intense that Kritos collapsed, curling into a ball and covering his head with his arms. When he finally sensed that the room was lit only by the flickering torches once more, he slowly raised his head to look for the Star.

Nyota—the sweet, beautiful boy radiating gentle blue light—was gone.

In his place stood a towering, imposing young man with long, pitch-black hair. He was clad in dark, heavy leather armor. Strapped to his waist was the most massive sword Kritos had ever laid eyes on. The man's eyes were narrow slits oozing a thirst for destruction, and his smirk was a silent promise of absolute carnage.

Kritos stared, his jaw unhinged, and tried to scramble backward across the floor. But his limbs refused to obey. Sheer, unadulterated terror had evaporated every last drop of energy from his body.

The Star stalked toward him and casually tossed one broken half of the medallion at his feet.

"Now we are one. As I told you, we will execute the plan together." His voice was now impossibly deep, vibrating with a lethal menace.

Kritos couldn't articulate a single syllable. He just stared up at him, waiting for that monstrous sword to impale his heart at any second.

The Star seemed to sense his dread and laughed—a harsh, grating sound that resembled a raven's croak. "You are the Guardian. You cannot die... yet."

With those parting words, the Star turned and marched toward the stone stairs. His heavy, armored footfalls echoed against the crypt walls, like a grim warning that very soon, nothing in Aseri would ever be the same.

Left trembling on the cold floor, Kritos wrapped his arms around his knees and wept bitterly.

"What have you done, you fool? What have you done..."