The world did not break.
It did not fade.
It continued.
As if it had decided that what Cain needed to see was not destruction, not war, not death—
But sothing far quieter.
Sothing far more difficult to face.
Cain stood still, his gaze fixed forward, as the figures before him grew older, their small fras stretching into sothing closer to who they would beco, their childish laughter slowly fading into sothing more restrained, more careful, more aware.
And among them—
Cornelia.
She stood there again.
No longer the little girl hiding her feelings behind small smiles and quiet gestures.
No longer the child who gave flowers and accepted being mistaken for soone else.
Now she looked like the Cornelia he rembered.
Tall.
Graceful.
Her long, curly hair falling over her shoulders, framing a face that carried both beauty and strength, the kind that ca from years of training, from battles fought, from emotions buried deep where no one could reach them.
But—
She was different.
Cain could see it.
Even without her saying anything.
She stood at a distance from him, her eyes fixed on him in a way that felt almost too steady, too quiet, too constant.
She kept looking at him.
Not once.
Not twice.
But again.
And again.
And again.
As if no matter how many tis ti moved forward, no matter how many scenes passed, no matter how many things changed—
Her gaze would always return to him.
"...Why..."
Cain’s voice ca out low, almost uncertain, as he watched her.
"...Why are you looking at like that..."
She did not answer.
Of course she didn’t.
This was not a place where she could hear him.
But her silence felt heavy.
Not empty.
But filled with sothing he could not ignore.
Every ti the scene moved, every ti monts passed, every ti events unfolded—
Her eyes found him again.
Even when she stood beside her sisters.
Even when she trained.
Even when she fought.
Even when she spoke to others.
There was always that mont—
Where she would pause.
And look at him.
As if he was the center of sothing she could not step away from.
Cain felt sothing uncomfortable settle in his chest.
"...Stop..."
He muttered under his breath.
"...Stop looking at like that..."
But she didn’t.
She couldn’t.
The scenes continued.
Ti moved again.
And then—
An announcent.
Voices echoed through the space, not from any visible source, but clear enough to be understood, as if the world itself was speaking.
A decision had been made.
A future determined.
Cain listened.
And when the words reached him—
His body stilled.
"...Marriage..."
The word lingered.
"...All three..."
His eyes widened slightly.
"...To ?"
The scene unfolded around him.
Faith stood there, her expression bright, her voice filled with determination as she spoke to the others, her reasons clear, her intentions strong.
"I don’t want my sisters to be used for alliances."
Her voice echoed.
"I don’t want them to be sacrifices for sothing they don’t want."
Ivira stood beside her, her arms crossed, her expression serious, but her gaze softened slightly as she looked at her younger sister.
"...If this is the only way to protect us..."
She spoke calmly.
"...Then I agree."
It was not excitent.
It was not joy.
It was a decision.
A necessary one.
One made with clear understanding of what it ant.
Cain watched.
Silent.
Processing.
But then—
His gaze moved.
To her.
Cornelia.
She stood slightly behind them at first, her expression unreadable, her posture straight, composed, as always.
But then—
Sothing changed.
Not in a sudden way.
Not in a dramatic way.
But in a way that made Cain’s breath slow.
Her eyes widened slightly.
Her lips parted.
And for a brief mont—
Her composure broke.
"...She’s..."
Cain’s voice lowered.
"...Happy?"
It was small at first.
Barely noticeable.
But it grew.
Her expression softened in a way he had never seen before.
Her shoulders relaxed.
Her hands, which were usually steady and controlled, moved slightly, almost nervously, as if she didn’t know what to do with them.
"...This..."
Cain took a step forward unconsciously.
"...This is Cornelia?"
She stepped forward.
Not with the sa firm, confident stride he rembered from battles.
But with sothing lighter.
Sothing almost hesitant.
"...Really?"
Her voice ca out soft.
"...All three of us...?"
Faith smiled brightly.
"Yes! That way we can stay together!"
Ivira let out a quiet breath.
"...It’s decided then."
And Cornelia—
She smiled.
Not the small, polite smile she used in public.
Not the calm, controlled expression she showed in serious monts.
But a genuine one.
Bright.
Warm.
Almost childlike.
"...I understand."
Her voice trembled slightly.
"...I will accept."
Cain felt his chest tighten again.
"...Why..."
He watched as she turned slightly, her movents lighter now, her steps carrying sothing he had never associated with her before.
She touched her hair, adjusting it without thinking.
She looked at her reflection.
She smiled to herself.
"...She’s acting..."
His voice dropped further.
"...Like a girl in love..."
The realization hit him harder than he expected.
Cornelia.
The one who was always serious.
Always composed.
Always focused on duty.
On strength.
On survival.
Now—
She was different.
She walked differently.
Spoke differently.
Even the way she held herself changed.
She spent ti choosing what to wear.
She looked at small things with more attention.
She even laughed.
Softly.
Quietly.
But genuinely.
"...This isn’t..."
Cain shook his head slightly.
"...This isn’t the Cornelia I knew..."
But it was.
Or maybe—
It was the part of her he had never seen.
The part she had never shown.
The part she had hidden.
Until now.
The scenes continued.
Days passed.
Monts unfolded.
Cornelia stayed close.
Not openly.
Not in a way that would draw attention.
But she was always there.
Watching.
Observing.
Waiting.
And then—
It happened.
A mont.
Small.
Unimportant.
Or at least—
It should have been.
Cain saw himself.
The teenage version.
Standing with soone.
Talking.
His voice casual.
Relaxed.
"...I just need to get along with them."
He said it simply.
"...It’s for Faith, that’s all."
The words hung in the air.
Clear.
Direct.
Without hesitation.
And behind him—
Cornelia stood.
Listening.
Her body froze.
Her eyes widened slightly.
And for the first ti—
She looked like sothing had broken inside her.
Cain felt it.
That mont.
That exact second.
"...No..."
His voice ca out low.
"...Don’t..."
But it had already happened.
Cornelia’s expression changed.
Not dramatically.
Not openly.
But enough.
The light in her eyes dimd.
Her posture straightened again.
Her hands clenched slightly at her sides.
"...So that’s it..."
She whispered to herself.
"...It was never..."
She stopped.
Her lips pressed together.
"...For ..."
Cain’s chest tightened painfully.
"...Cornelia..."
But she did not react.
She could not hear him.
The days continued.
But sothing had changed.
Cornelia still did everything she was supposed to do.
She trained.
She fought.
She spoke when needed.
She stood beside her sisters.
She fulfilled her role.
But—
There was sothing missing.
Sothing that had been there before.
Her movents beca chanical.
Her expressions controlled again.
But this ti—
It was different.
Not strength.
Not discipline.
But emptiness.
"...She’s..."
Cain’s voice dropped.
"...Forcing herself..."
He watched as she practiced.
Her sword moved.
Precise.
Perfect.
But without the sa energy.
Without the sa presence.
He watched as she spoke to others.
Her voice calm.
Polite.
But distant.
He watched as she stood beside him.
Her gaze forward.
Unmoving.
But no longer searching for him.
No longer lingering.
"...Half-hearted..."
The word ford in his mind.
Everything she did—
Was half-hearted.
As if she was there.
But not really.
As if she was moving.
But not living.
Cain felt sothing heavy settle inside him.
"...Because of that..."
He clenched his fists.
"...Because of what I said..."
Suddenly, for the first ti, the Overgod seed to have regretted his decision of his past self.
If only he could...
The scenes continued.
Again.
And again.
Showing the sa pattern.
The sa distance.
The sa quiet suffering.
Until—
She couldn’t hold it anymore.
It happened at night.
Alone.
Away from everyone.
Cornelia stood in the empty space, her back against the wall, her hands trembling slightly as she tried to hold herself together.
"...Why..."
Her voice broke.
"...Why..."
Tears ford in her eyes.
She tried to stop them.
Tried to hold them back.
But they fell anyway.
"...Why..."
Her body shook.
"...Why does he only like Faith..."
The words ca out broken.
Filled with sothing raw.
Sothing she had buried for too long.
"...Why not ..."
Her voice rose slightly, not loud, but filled with pain that could no longer be contained.
"...Why..."
Tears stread down her face now, her composure completely gone, her strength nowhere to be seen.
"...Why..."
She covered her face with her hands, her shoulders trembling as the emotions she had held back finally broke free.
"...Why..."
And in that mont—
There was no warrior.
No composed sister.
No strong figure.
Only a girl—
Crying.
Because she was not chosen.
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