A quietness settled over the world like mist after a storm.
In the secluded valley of Tharum, hidden between the scorched edges of Hell's breath and the outer remnants of the Heavenly veil, Shadow had carved out a temporary sanctuary. No war drums, no whispers of betrayal—only wind through ash trees and the distant hum of magic still raw from the Saint's fall.
Lidow sat alone on a stone, watching the scarred sky reflect in a pool of still water. He looked older than his sixteen years—haunted eyes, a warrior's stillness, his left hand bandaged from the celestial burn the Saint had left behind.
Valarie watched from a distance. Her heart ached for him—not just as his mother, but as a woman who knew the weight of prophecy and pain. She knew what it meant when peace was too quiet.
Shadow stood on a black ridge above them, his cloak moving like smoke. His wings were hidden now. His face was half in shadow. For days, he had said nothing, only watched the skies. Waiting.
Thorn approached quietly. "They're rebuilding the cathedral."
Shadow turned. "The chains?"
"Gone. But something else is stirring. The upper veil… it's healing."
Shadow's jaw tightened. "Faster than it should."
Thorn hesitated. "You think they'll try again?"
"They won't try," Shadow said. "They'll succeed—unless we move first."
—
Later that evening, around a fire
The small circle gathered: Valarie, Lidow, Thorn, and the demon tactician Syrah. A map lay between them, half-burned, drawn in celestial ink.
"We destroyed the Saint," Syrah said, her horns glinting. "But not the order that created him. There's more—another seat of Heaven's hidden guard."
"A second Saint?" Lidow asked quietly.
"No," Shadow said. "A council. They sent him, yes. But they didn't stop with him. The Saint was a test."
Valarie closed her eyes. "And we passed."
Shadow nodded. "Which means now… they'll bring war. Not with saints. With armies."
Silence.
Then Lidow said what no one dared:
"Then we go to them."
Eyes turned to him.
"I've seen what they are. If they rebuild, others will suffer. We need to end it—at the source."
Shadow gave his son a long look—dark, proud, and grim.
"Then we'll burn their heaven."
—
In the stars above, somewhere beyond
A voice echoed in the heavens.
"He comes."
And another answered,
"Then let the throne of angels tremble."