Radiant Palace,
Astralis City, Auroria Kingdom
Sol continent, AurenIdril Empire
Terra, Gaea solar system,
Milky Way galaxy
Luminary star system
25th Astralis cycle, Solaris Prime, 572,413
By the time their royal transport arrived at the Palace of the Crown Prince, the twin suns were already sinking beneath the horizon, casting elongated shadows across the golden spires of the capital. The sky burned with hues of deep amber and violet, the fading daylight reflecting off the pristine marble streets leading to the palace gates.
A retinue of guards stood in disciplined formation, their polished armor gleaming under the waning light. Beyond them, a shimmering arcane array enclosed the palace like an impenetrable veil—a state-of-the-art security barrier, woven with layers of defensive enchantments and spatial locks that would repel any unauthorized intrusion.
The transport was granted passage, the glowing runes along the gate parting to let them through. As the vehicle slid through the threshold, the air inside remained thick with silence, stretching taut like an unspoken weight pressing upon them.
The ride had been anything but quiet. Enkidu, ever the inquisitor, had spent most of the journey bombarding them with questions. He had asked about the world beyond this one, about whether the AurenIdril Empire still stood, whether his name had survived the test of time and if his fame had reached distant stars, beyond even their own planet.
They hadn't known how to answer. Sam, Henry, Callum, and Trini had exchanged uneasy glances, but none of them had spoken a word. The truth was something that felt too heavy to utter aloud. Their silence had been all the answer Enkidu needed.
His golden eyes, sharp with intelligence, had flickered with understanding, and after a moment, he had stopped asking. Instead, his attention had shifted—to Rosa. Rosa had refused to meet his gaze, keeping her eyes firmly elsewhere, her body language betraying a quiet tension beneath her composed exterior.
And Enkidu, noticing this, had simply smiled. There was amusement in his expression, but also something deeper—a familiarity, a knowing presence that suggested he understood exactly why she was avoiding him.
He let it go. For now. Enkidu was the first to step out of the vehicle, his movements fluid and unhurried, as though the grandeur before him was nothing new. Sam followed next, then Rosa, and the rest of their group.
The moment their feet touched the polished stone of the palace courtyard, their gazes were drawn upward, awed by the sheer majesty of the imperial palace.
It was magnificent—beyond anything they had ever seen.
Towering archways, intricately carved with golden celestial runes, lined the entrance, while floating crystal obelisks pulsed with arcane light, exuding an ethereal glow that bathed the palace in divine radiance. The sheer scale of the structure was overwhelming—each column so colossal it seemed to touch the heavens, each corridor stretching endlessly like a path through infinity.
Somewhere within this palace lay the path to the Crown. Enkidu led the way, moving with the effortless confidence of someone who belonged in this place. The Imperial Guards stationed at the entrance immediately snapped to attention, their armored fists striking their chests in a salute.
They did not bow out of mere obligation. Their eyes shone with devotion, a deep reverence that radiated from them as they looked upon Enkidu—the most powerful Ascendant of the younger generation.
Well, one of them.
The other two were their beloved Crown Prince and the Priestess Princess—the three prodigies of their time, unmatched in power and prestige. Yet as their disciplined gazes flickered toward the rest of the group, their silent thoughts were less kind.
Who were these weak nobodies walking in Enkidu's shadow? They were clearly not of the imperial line, nor were they Ascendants of any renown. The guards exchanged wordless glances, but none dared to speak aloud their doubts.
They were outsiders, but if Enkidu deemed them worthy, they would not question it.
With a smooth, practiced motion, Enkidu pushed open the massive doors to the throne room. The moment Sam stepped inside, her eyes were drawn forward. A long, golden mat stretched out before her, a radiant path leading toward the raised platform at the far end of the room. There, a resplendent throne of amber and crimson sat in regal splendor, its gilded frame bathed in soft celestial fire.
And upon that throne…
The most breathtakingly beautiful creature she had ever seen.
The Crown Prince.
Even without knowing his name, Sam would have recognized him as royalty. His very presence commanded the air around him, his golden hair like liquid sunlight, his features so finely sculpted that they seemed beyond mortal design. His aura was suffocating in its magnificence, not because it was oppressive but because it felt too divine, too ethereal to belong in the physical world.
But her attention was swiftly drawn away by the sight of another figure—one seated just below the throne, positioned in a place of high but lesser importance. A familiar face. Her breath caught.
"Emily?"
Sam's voice rang through the grand hall, carrying her disbelief.
It was one surprise after another. Emily looked up from her seat, her orange eyes widening slightly before a rare expression of relief crossed her face. She rose gracefully from her chair, moving toward Sam with quiet urgency.
And then—before Sam could fully process it—Emily pulled her into a hug. Sam stiffened at first, startled. Emily wasn't one for open displays of affection. She was always composed, controlled, and distant. She never initiated physical contact.
Yet here she was, holding onto Sam without hesitation. For a moment, Sam felt herself melt into it, realizing what it meant. Emily cared. No words were needed. The act itself said enough.
"What are you doing here?" Henry's voice broke through the moment, a mixture of relief and confusion lacing his tone.
Out of all the Pleiadians Henry had met, Emily had always been the most approachable, the one who had cared about them as non-awakened beings. It was Emily who had crafted their weapons, the very weapons that allowed them to fight against Awakened Beings.
To see her here—in the heart of the imperial palace, seated beside the Crown Prince himself—raised far more questions than answers.
"Rex and I went to capture Delacroix," Emily began, her tone clipped and serious. "But then we discovered Sector Zero agents attempting to invade the Echo Field." She crossed her arms, frustration flickering in her orange eyes. "I tried to destroy their portal, but something happened... and I ended up here."
Enkidu exhaled sharply. "Another one, huh."
His golden gaze flicked toward Gilgamesh, still seated on his amber and crimson throne, his expression unreadable. The Crown Prince had already activated his Sun Wheel Ocular Power, his eyes gleaming like celestial gears turning in endless motion.
He was seeing the truth of it all. And then, his voice cut through the tense air like a blade.
"So you have finally arrived, Asha'Yee."
Sam's attention snapped away from Emily, her eyes locking onto Gilgamesh Noavellion. Her instincts flared—her Eye of Mathias awakened instantly, seeking to perceive the true nature of the man before her. But the moment her gaze fell upon him—
Agony.
A sharp, unbearable pulse of pain shot through her skull like a cosmic force crushing the limits of her perception. The geometric patterns that wove Gilgamesh's existence were incomprehensible, fractals of impossibly complex design that defied logical understanding.
The very frequency of his being was too much for her to process. A gasp tore from her lips as her body recoiled. Blood trickled from her nose.
"You shouldn't use that power too frequently, Samantha," Gilgamesh remarked, his voice calm, almost bordering on concern. "Ina was at the Master Realm before she could handle its full extent."
Sam wiped the blood away with the back of her hand, her pulse still erratic. He knew.
Enkidu narrowed his eyes. "So you know the truth about this place too."
Gilgamesh's golden gaze softened slightly as he turned toward his old friend.
"Forgive me, friend."
But Sam wasn't interested in pleasantries. Her voice was sharp as she straightened.
"You knew all along, didn't you?"
"Of course I did," Gilgamesh replied smoothly. "After all… I am the Administrator of this world."
Silence. The weight of his words crashed over them like a tidal wave. Emily's expression barely shifted, but her mind reeled. She had suspected that Gilgamesh—this Echo being—might have been self-aware. But for him to be the one who governed this reality? That was something she hadn't accounted for.
Henry, Callum, and Trini stared in stunned disbelief. Enkidu, on the other hand, burst into laughter. A deep, roaring laugh echoed through the grand throne room. He slapped his palm against his knee, shaking his head.
"I should have known!" he said between chuckles. "Ever since I've known you, you've been obsessed with Dimensional Magic. I take it that the version of you who made this Echo Field must have mastered it completely."
Gilgamesh tilted his head slightly. "I did."
Sam's fingers twitched at her side.
"Dimensional Magic."
She knew of it. It was classified under Physical Magic as a tier five spell, a branch of Arcane theory that manipulated the very structure of space and existence. But she wasn't at the level where she could wield it yet. Not fully. Still, something about what Gilgamesh said unsettled her. Her mind was racing, piecing together the implications.
"Can Dimensional Magic create Echo Fields?" she asked, turning to Emily—the Arcane expert among them. Emily's eyes darkened with contemplation.
"Yes," she admitted. "Especially if the caster has a strong natural affinity for it." Her thoughts flickered to Leon. Leon had an innate connection to Dimensional Forces—time, space, causality itself. But he had barely touched that aspect of his potential. He had always leaned more into his martial and mystical abilities rather than spellwork. Which meant…
"Then you must know where the Crown is." Sam turned back to Gilgamesh. "Please, I need—"
"I know why you're here."
Gilgamesh's voice held finality, his expression unreadable. "When I created this trial, I did so with the knowledge of what it would be used for."
His gaze bored into her, as if reading the very purpose behind her existence in this moment.
"You're here to save my heir, aren't you?"
Sam's breath caught. The words settled in the air like an earthquake. Henry, Callum, and Trini exchanged looks, whispering in disbelief. Leon—an heir? An heir to what? To whom?
An ancient legacy lost to time?
Emily, however, remained silent. She had already reached this conclusion. Gilgamesh had called himself a part of the Sol Lineage—and that name carried meaning.
Sol.
The House of Leo. Leon had always been destined for something greater. And now, that truth was beginning to unfold.
"I'm here to save Leon."
Sam's voice was steady, unwavering. Gilgamesh leaned forward slightly on his amber and crimson throne, his golden eyes gleaming with a knowing light.
"Then you must pass the Crucible Trial," he said. "Succeed, and the Crown shall be yours. Fail, and Terra will fall from the Celestial realignment."
Sam's breath hitched. "You know about the Celestial Realignment?"
Gilgamesh tilted his head, his expression unreadable.
"I am quite aware of what goes on beyond this reality."
The weight of his words pressed down on the room, making Sam reassess everything she thought she knew about this place. He wasn't just an Echo Field administrator—he was far more aware than she had imagined.
And then, the realization struck her.
Her eyes narrowed. "You're the Crown, aren't you?"
Gilgamesh's lips curved into a small smile—an affirmation without words.
Sam looked around, her gaze sweeping over the ornate palace interior, the golden mat leading up to the throne, and the shimmering mana-infused walls pulsing faintly with arcane energy. And then it hit her. They were already inside the trial.
Her pulse quickened. "The moment we stepped into the throne room, we entered the Crucible, didn't we?"
"Yes," Gilgamesh confirmed smoothly, his voice laced with something almost like amusement. "And your enemies are already at work."
A ripple of movement drew her attention—a shifting of shadows at the base of the throne. The darkness coiled unnaturally, writhing like a living entity before stretching outward. Something was emerging. Sam's instincts flared as she stepped back, her fists clenching.
The shadow reached for Enkidu, who had positioned himself near Gilgamesh, ever the warrior, ever the protector. But before he could react, the darkness peeled away—and figures emerged. Hekate.
And behind her—Sector Zero agents.
Sam's blood ignited in rage upon seeing Nabu. "You."
The word was low, seething. Hekate merely smirked before turning away from Sam, her movements fluid and deliberate. She lowered herself into a bow before Gilgamesh, the act both a display of deference and an assertion of her presence.
Gilgamesh's golden gaze fell upon the intruders, his expression unreadable. To him, they were rats scurrying through the sacred halls of his domain. They had entered his reality, sneaking in with their filth, violating a space that belonged to him. If he willed it, he could erase them with a thought. But he did nothing.
Because he knew them.
They were not of Terra. They were not mere infiltrators; they were of the Divine Federation—the place where the Crown had once lived for a million years. For all the time the Crown had existed, it had spent more years in Agartha, the capital planet of the Federation, than it had on Terra, the place where it had been forged.
For that reason, Gilgamesh did nothing.
He simply watched. The moment Hekate's bow ended, the energy in the throne room shifted. A cold ripple of unseen force pulsed outward, something ancient stirring beneath the surface of reality. The torches that lined the great hall dimmed, their flames shrinking as if cowering before an unseen presence.
Rising from her bow, Hekate's expression was serene, yet an undeniable aura of command surrounded her. She turned, her dark gaze settling on Nabu.
"Begin the conversion."
Nabu gave a sharp nod, stepping forward without hesitation. Enkidu reacted immediately, his instincts screaming at him, but before he could move—Sector Zero agents surged forward, their movements precise, calculated. Blades of compressed celestial energy flashed in their hands as they restrained him, forcing him down onto his knees.
"Tch—damn you all—" Enkidu snarled, struggling against their hold, but the weight of their combined forces was enough to keep him pinned.
Then, Nabu reached into his robes. From within, he withdrew an intricately woven Crown of Thorns—its twisted form gleaming with an eerie, dark light as if reality itself rejected its existence. The moment it was exposed, the very air in the room trembled, and a deep, resonant hum filled the space, vibrating through their bones.
"Wait—what the hell is that?" Rosa demanded, her voice edged with alarm.
Nabu ignored her. With reverence, he placed the Crown atop Enkidu's head. The moment the thorns touched his skin, they moved. The Crown came alive, its jagged vines slithering like living tendrils, piercing into Enkidu's skull, merging with his very being. Enkidu's scream tore through the chamber. It wasn't just pain. It was something greater. Something cosmic.
His body convulsed, golden blood trickling down his temples as the energy within him ruptured, twisting and reshaping. The throne room shuddered, as if the very foundation of this Echo Field recognized what was descending into it. The air grew thick—too thick. Then, the temperature plummeted. A great presence loomed.
And then—he appeared.
The Divine Emperor.
The golden glow of Enkidu's irises shattered, his pupils widening into an abyss of celestial fire, his body elongating, his muscles twisting into something unnatural. The once-recognizable form of Enkidu stood taller, his aura an overwhelming force of dominion, law, and divine will.
When he opened his mouth, it was not Enkidu's voice that spoke— It was something far more vast. Far more terrifying.
"Asha'Yee."
Sam staggered backward, her breath catching in her throat. The very will of the Divine Emperor had descended into this realm, wearing Enkidu's body like a vessel.
"This isn't possible," Emily whispered, recognizing what was happening. Hekate turned to face them, her expression unreadable.
"It is very possible," Hekate said. She gestured toward the transformed Enkidu, now standing in his full, imperial form. "The Enkidu that existed in history was not just any warrior. He was a mortal incarnation of the Divine Emperor."
Sam's stomach dropped.
"That means…" she whispered.
"It means that his Echo is still bound to him," Hekate confirmed smoothly. "This vessel—this Enkidu—is nothing more than a remnant of his past self. And that allows the Divine Emperor to reclaim him whenever he desires."
Henry, Callum, and Trini stood frozen, unable to fully process the gravity of what was happening.
"You Sector Zero bastards," Rosa seethed. "You came for the Crown, didn't you?"
Hekate smiled coldly. "Indeed. The Crown belongs to the Divine Federation, not this forsaken world. It was never meant to remain on Terra."
Sam's fists clenched, her Odic Force rising like a tempest, but before she could react, the Divine Emperor's gaze turned upon her. The weight of his presence crashed into her, a force unlike anything she had ever felt before. It was like being crushed beneath the sheer gravity of existence itself.
His voice—deep, resonant, absolute—shook the very fabric of the Echo Field.
"You are an aberration, Asha'Yee."
A chill crept down Sam's spine.
"Your very existence threatens the order of my empire," the Divine Emperor continued. "For that, you must be eradicated."
Sam barely had time to react before the Divine Emperor moved.
And the battle for the Crown of Stars had begun.
****
Outside the Echo field,
Hyades City, Exterior Ward
Spring Court, Hidden World
Terra, Gaea Solar system
Milky Way Galaxy,
Neutral Free Zone
Leon lay motionless on the hospital bed, his body thrumming with relentless, unforgiving pain—pain so overwhelming that it had transcended the point of suffering, settling into something else entirely. A silent, numbing ache. It was as though his body had reached the absolute limit of what it could endure, and yet, he did not cry out, did not groan, did not make a sound.
His mind, however, drifted elsewhere. Leon's eyes flickered open, pulling him from the depths of a dream—a memory long buried, lost to him until now. He had dreamt of Terra, of the days before his Awakening, when he would visit alongside his mother. Back then, he had been just a boy, spending time with little Sam. They had played, laughed, and existed in the purity of childhood—before fate had torn them apart.
But that past had been stolen from him.
After his Awakening, his mother had erased those memories, sealing them away so that they would not interfere with his purpose. She had not wanted him to remember Sam. Yet, some fragments had survived. Pieces of those lost moments had bled into his dreams and nightmares, reshaping his subconscious in ways he could not understand—until now.
Now, he had reunited with Sam. Now, they had grown closer. And now—he was dying. A bitter thought curled in his mind. If only he had come back to Terra more often. Maybe he would have found her sooner. Maybe they would have had more time. But things had not played out that way. Leon let out a slow breath, his gaze drifting to the door of his hospital room—to the figure standing just beyond it.
"You can come in." His voice was rough but steady. "I'm not gonna bite your head off if that's what you think."
The door opened, and Lance Al'Roth stepped inside. In his hands, he carried two glasses and a bottle—Leon's favorite Hidden World whiskey.
A peace offering.
Lance moved with quiet deliberation, pouring the amber liquid into one of the glasses before setting it on the small table beside Leon's bed. His sharp gaze flickered over Leon's deteriorating condition, but if he felt anything about it, he kept it buried beneath that unreadable expression. Leon studied him for a moment, then exhaled sharply.
"So... you're one of them."
Lance paused for the briefest of moments, then poured himself a drink.
"Technically, I'm not a Fallen Star."
Leon's fingers curled around the glass, his grip steady but tight.
"But you knew about them. You knew where they operated—how they worked. And you said nothing to me about it." His voice was level, devoid of anger, yet heavy with the weight of betrayal. He lifted the glass, swallowing the whiskey in one long gulp. The burn hit instantly, spreading like fire through his already fragile body. He coughed, the heat sinking into his veins, but it did nothing to dull the ache inside him. Leon lowered the glass, his golden eyes darkening.
"You knew how much I wanted to find them. How much I searched. How much I needed answers." He looked at Lance then, his gaze sharp, piercing. "But you gave me nothing. Nothing—except that damn Ryu, who used me."
He did not yell. He did not raise his voice. But the accusation was deafening. Lance exhaled slowly, his fingers tightening around his glass.
"I had no choice." He said. His voice was calm, but there was something beneath it—a weight only a man who carried a great burden could understand. "For the sake of Terra. For its people. And for my ancestors. Things had to happen the way they did."
A silence settled between them—not empty, but full. Full of things unsaid.
"Where's Ryu?" Leon's voice was quiet, but there was a razor-sharp edge beneath it.
"That bastard claimed my choice would lead me to a cure."
His hands curled into weak fists, frustration burning inside him like an unrelenting flame. He knew of the mission to the Echo Field, knew that Sam and the others had thrown themselves into danger—for him. And he hated it. Hated the idea of Sam risking herself for his sake. Hated himself even more for his weakness. But before his thoughts could spiral further, a voice—smooth, composed, and all too familiar—cut through the room like silk over steel.
"And it will."
Leon's blue eyes lifted, locking onto the figure that had just entered the room.
Vuelo Vysileaf. She moved with an effortless grace, her very presence commanding yet ethereal, like someone who existed outside of time itself. Leon took her in—her striking features, the quiet power humming beneath her aura, the knowing gleam in her eyes.
She smiled at him. "You don't seem surprised to see me, Leon dear."
Leon exhaled sharply, his gaze cool, unreadable.
"As soon as I learned that Sam and Sophia were connected to the Vysileaf lineage, I knew you had ties to the Fallen Stars." His voice was steady, but there was a bitterness laced beneath the words. "I tried not to dwell on it."
He tilted his head slightly, his sharp gaze narrowing. "But then I started thinking."
His fingers drummed against the edge of his glass, an action subtle yet full of restless energy.
"Why were you feeding me information?" He asked. "Why lead me on a path that would bring me closer to the Fallen Stars?"
The answer had come to him too late.
"I realized you weren't only guiding me." His lips curled into a humorless smirk. "You were controlling me. Or rather, controlling the events that would lead me to her." His fingers tightened around the glass, the weight of realization settling in his chest.
"Just like my mother." His voice was laced with quiet accusation."You Seers are something else, you know that?"
Vuelo didn't waver. If anything, her expression softened slightly—not in regret, but in understanding.
"Your mother and I share the same goal."
Leon let out a dry laugh. "And what goal is that?"
Vuelo's eyes, ageless and knowing, pierced through him.
"To break the curse that binds you."
Leon's breath stalled.
"Not just you, but Terra as well."
Vuelo took a step closer, her presence radiating an undeniable force of will.
"Those of us from the Octagram," she continued, "we have waited for this day for a very, very long time."
Her voice carried the weight of centuries, of unseen forces moving behind the veil of history, guiding the world toward this very moment.
"As the Grand Matron and the Herald of the High Priestess, it is my duty to see it through."
Leon held her gaze, his mind racing, his pulse hammering in his chest. He had always been a pawn in someone's game. But now, he was starting to understand just how deep the game truly ran.
"Don't blame Lance for following my instructions," Vuelo said smoothly. "As Matron, he has no choice but to obey my commands," Lance said nothing. Instead, he lifted his glass and took a slow, measured sip of his drink, his expression unreadable. The truth was, even without Vuelo's authority binding him, he still would have done it. Leon's choices, his very existence, held the fate of Terra in its grasp.
And for someone like Lance, a man who had devoted everything to this world, there was no sacrifice too great to ensure its survival. Even if that sacrifice meant participating in something that had cost lives—like Fuyuki.
The silence between them thickened, the weight of unspoken truths settling over the room.
Leon, however, only had one thought in his mind.
"I don't care about any of that." His voice was low, firm, and unshaken.
His golden eyes burned as he met Vuelo's gaze. "All I care about is making sure nothing happens to Sam."
"And nothing will," Vuelo replied evenly. "If you act." She reached into her robes, retrieving a small comm band that pulsed with a soft glow. With a flick of her wrist, the device transformed—unfolding like liquid metal, reshaping itself into a hovering drone-like construct.
The air hummed as the droid activated, its lens flickering to life. A projection flickered into existence before Leon, illuminating the room in cold blue light. Leon's breath hitched as his gaze snapped to the display. Sam. Emily. Rosa. The others.
Surrounded.
They stood in the heart of some grand place, completely encircled by Sector Zero operatives clad in obsidian battle gear, their presence like shadows bleeding into reality. Leon's grip on the bedsheets tightened.
"What is this?"
"A live feed," Vuelo answered. "We managed to slip a surveillance drone into the Echo Field. It's transmitting everything to us in real-time." Leon barely registered her words. His focus was solely on the scene unfolding before him. Sector Zero had breached the Echo Field.
They were here for the Crown—intent on claiming it before the Cleansing Ship arrived to erase Terra from existence. But then Vuelo's voice dropped into something colder.
"That isn't all." The display shifted—zooming in on the center of the confrontation. Leon stiffened. A figure loomed in the heart of the battlefield, an unstoppable force of celestial dominance, wrapped in flowing divine energy. His presence alone seemed to bend reality around him, his gaze locked onto Sam like a predator upon its prey. Leon recognized what it was. An Aspect of the Divine Emperor.
"No," Leon growled.
"Yes," Vuelo confirmed. "Right now, Sam is about to be confronted by the Divine Emperor himself. No matter how far she's come, she stands no chance against a Divine Avatar.
Her words were razor-sharp, striking deep into his core.
"Not unless you do something." The room felt too small, suffocating. Leon's entire body tensed as he stared at the projection, watching Sam stand her ground, her determination unwavering—but against a force like that? His fingers dug into the sheets, his breathing ragged.
"You can be angry," Vuelo continued, her voice softer now but no less firm. "At me. At your mother. At the way we manipulated you, controlled you. You can let that rage consume you..."
She took a step closer.
"Or—"
The screen flickered, showing Sam preparing for battle against a force she couldn't possibly win against.
"—you can take action."
Her final words hit like a hammer.
"Do something for yourself, Leon. Something that won't fill you with regret."
For a long moment, he just lay there, his body exhausted, his mind spinning.
His entire life, he had been searching, searching for that one connection that would satisfy that hunger, that desire within himself... and he had found it. In Samantha Mccoy. Leon knew if he did what he was about to do, there was no going back. This would be his end. But it was a choice he knew he would not regret. The fire inside him ignited.
With gritted teeth, Leon forced his body to move, shoving away the pain as he pushed himself up from the bed. His legs shook, but he ignored it, muscles screaming in protest as he forced them into submission. He barely noticed Lance watching him, barely registered Vuelo's knowing expression. All that mattered was getting to Sam. He knew exactly what he had to do.