Half a day had passed since the eting at the Triarcan Keep.
In the far reaches of the Pride of Aeonthar, where the skies were clear and the clouds hung like brushed silk, the Myrrnith Throne stood alone upon a floating island.
The land beneath her feet shimred with stellar grasses of blue and silver, pulsing gently with the rhythm of the skies above.
Ethereal trees with translucent leaves humd quietly in the wind, their roots embedded in moss that glowed faintly with ancient light.
Here, high above the rest of the lands, it felt like a world apart- a world suspended in both space and thought.
Her blue hair fluttered gently in the breeze, strands gleaming like liquid sapphire beneath the sunlight. She was regal, still, a statue of focus as her eyes traced the drifting isles nearby, each one dotted with verdant life and starlight flora.
Alone, she pondered deeply.
Then, a ripple echoed in the sky.
A golden shimr broke through the quietude, a majestic figure descending with effortless grace!
The Crown Prince of the Royal Panthera Lions glided downward in his celestial lion form, radiant wings spread wide and tail coiled with soft solar embers. His claws sparked with restrained power, and his eyes, twin suns of golden intent, narrowed as they fell upon her.
There was hunger in that gaze.
And want.
He landed beside her with the silent authority of a monarch born to command, his form towering yet fluid, every movent honed by centuries. She turned to him and nodded with the respect due one of his station.
"Your presence honors , Crown Prince," she said.
He let out a low hum of acknowledgnt and stepped closer.
"I know you have doubts on what we are doing," he said. "But what we are building... it is working."
The Myrrnith Throne shook her head slowly. A soft smile played on her lips.
"I do not doubt."
The Crown Prince’s tail flicked as he walked forward to stand beside her. Together, they looked out across the scattered floating landmasses, each island suspended in harmony with the other, forming a web of stellar sanctuaries across the sky.
"Then let prove it," he said. "Elder Rothschild... he is breaking through right now. He is ascending past the Neuronova Stage."
HUUM!
She blinked. Her breath beca heavy as the Crown Prince continued!
"Above Astral Core Ascension is...Empyrean Star Nexus Transcendence."
...!
"They call it by many nas. But among us, this one resonates clearest. It is the mont when one ceases to rely solely on an astral core and becos the nexus- a living conduit between will and starlight. Their Luminblood, their Celestbones, even the deepest synapses of their minds all fused in glorious alignnt to forge the star within."
His tone deepened, words asured with caution.
"It is a perilous path. To bring together the marrow, the fla, and the thought... to make them one. Many have tried. Fewer survived. There are those whose minds were seared to ash just from channeling their inner starlight. So, mighty as they were, lost their wills entirely."
His eyes glead as he stepped forward again.
"And that... is why Planar Destiny matters. With its thread, one finds cohesion, clarity, and the strength to defy ruin. Elder Rothschild has obtained bits of it, and we will all soon be thst much safer because of it. Others will too. King Primal may appear unstoppable now. But soon, we shall have dozens capable of standing where even he cannot. Beings who might one day step outside this Plane of Existence altogether easily. That...is what this next stage of power provides."
...!
The Myrrnith Throne gave a slow, thoughtful nod.
The Crown Prince stepped behind her. His steps were quiet now, asured with a different rhythm.
"There is another way to weave Planar Destiny closer," he whispered.
His breath lingered near the back of her neck, his golden form casting a long shadow over her figure. "Not just in blood and war, but in closeness. Entanglent. Understanding."
His eyes traced the waves of her glowing blue hair with hunger and lust, his presence near.
The Myrrnith Throne said nothing for a long mont.
Then, she turned.
Her expression was composed. Her eyes, serene.
"I understand."
...!
In this mont, what had once been decided in words... beca real in action. For what they believed in, for what they sought to protect, they would do what had to be done.
Even if it ant giving up sothing of themselves along the way.
Even if it ant changing what they once were.
—
In another region.
Across the Cenotaph Wild Lands.
Within the capital of the Lunaris Colony Dynasty, buried in its foundations like a festering secret, stood a vast cathedral wrapped in marble veins of stone.
A gleaming moon was carved into its highest spire, its light seeming to weep across the pale face of the building. Yet that light never reached the depths below.
Beneath the cathedral.
Beyond spiraling stairways and tunnels forgotten by all but one, a hidden labyrinth stretched out into the dark.
There, in one solitary corridor, the floor shimred wetly beneath every footstep.
The Lunaris Throne walked slowly across the slick stone, the sharp click of his boots punctuated by the wet crunch of shattered bone and sinew.
The scent of blood was thick, tallic and suffocating, clinging to the air like death’s own perfu. The corpses of hundreds of humans lined the walls in brutal arrangents- twisted, torn, strung together like garlands of gore. So were still warm. Others had long since dried, their blood soaked into the very walls.
The corridor ended at a chamber, vast and circular, its do carved with lunar glyphs that pulsed with dim violet light. In the center sat a towering obsidian altar, ford of jagged stone that seed to swallow the light around it. Shadowy fus drifted from its base, writhing as if alive, drinking greedily from the rivers of blood pouring toward it.
The Lunaris Throne entered slowly, his regal robes dragging through the blood.
His hands trembled.
His expression, though he tried to mask it, was lined with unease and a growing weight of anxiety.
When he reached the edge of the altar, he did not kneel imdiately. He looked into the blackened mass before him and whispered.
"I am not safe anymore."
His voice echoed, strained and thin in the hollow silence.
"He... the one I told you about before and gave you information of. King Primal- Achilles Maxwell. He’s no longer a variable! He is a threat to my very life as he can decimate even Neuronova Stage Ancients with ease!"
HUUM!
He stepped closer, his voice gaining strength only from desperation.
"Each passing hour, he grows stronger. Every second he remains alive, he solidifies power I cannot match. I cannot wait anymore. We cannot."
He took a final step to the base of the altar. The shadows writhed as if listening. A low hum reverberated through the chamber.
"O Primordial Light of Darkness," the Lunaris Throne said, his voice sharper now, edged with frantic resolve. "I need you to make a move!"
...!
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