Three Days Later

  Beneath the Capital of Oculi

  Still on Level 0 – Base Center

  The Count's Temporary Residence

  While most of the base slept under the cover of night, a few people working the night shift could be seen walking through the base.

  They carried out their routine nighttime patrols through the many alleys and streets between the establishments and their homes near the central park.

  At the same time, the Count (aged 40) was seen on the balcony of his temporary residence, opening his eyes after taking a deep breath.

  He was located very close to the massive lateral wall of the underground base. Though he appeared calm, resting both arms on the railing, there was something else behind his stillness.

  He silently admired the beautiful view of the lowest level of the Reginae faction’s subterranean base, which resembled a vast underground city.

  Designed to function entirely as a military complex, it nonetheless retained its noble and medieval architectural character.

  The Count seemed to breathe deeply once more as he closed his eyes for a few moments, remembering the magnificent view from the top of the royal castle in the capital.

  That very same royal castle still stood above the underground depths of the Oculi capital, though it was no longer as splendid as it had been five years ago.

  Before the fall, the capital of Oculi—with its 50,000 square kilometers—had become nothing more than a vast expanse of rubble, stacked in endless piles of ruins.

  Now, after five long years, it had become a forsaken city, covered in vegetation and reclaimed by the return of wild nature across various parts.

  Meanwhile, beneath that capital, the Reginae base still pulsed like the beating heart of an architecture that—despite the destruction of its original pillars—

  Had somehow preserved its beauty, even now buried almost ten kilometers beneath the surface of the city center and the once-proud royal castle.

  No longer could it bask in the glow of the stars during cloudy or clear nights.

  Nor in the golden light of the sun that once illuminated the world from dawn until dusk—simple things in the Count’s eyes, now stripped away.

  What pained him most was the sharp ache in his chest when he realized that the once-illuminated world had drawn its light from the hope brought by his best friend, Luna.

  The former queen of the Oculi kingdom—of that very world—had once dreamed of seeing her people no longer divided, not even further than they already had been over the past thousand years.

  The Count no longer gazed at the underground city around him. His expression grew heavier as the weight of those truths sank deeper within.

  Truths so painful and difficult to accept that his grip on the balcony railing tightened, as though trying to anchor himself to something solid in that moment.

  Echoing in his mind were the many times over the last ten years when he heard people blame Luna for having indirectly brought uncertainty and doubt into that once peaceful world.

  Fears that, before her rise to the throne, had already corroded the minds of those afraid of being cast back into darkness once again.

  The scene revealed the Count with his head bowed, short white hair falling over his eyes, his clenched teeth faintly visible through his parted lips.

  He refused to admit that painful truth: that Luna, in life, had brought light to that world—and that with her death, she had left it once more in darkness.

  Few knew the true weight that Luna had carried since childhood, ascending the throne at such a young age and leading her people in a way unseen in over a thousand years.

  And just when he finally saw Luna, at the age of thirty, reach the peak of her leadership—

  Becoming an inspiration to generations not through spilled blood or territorial conquest, but through her words and her light—

  She had even managed to truly win over the hearts of her darkest enemies, those consumed by hatred and rage.

  The Count, faced with all of this, on that final day before her, was unable to speak the words he had longed to say since childhood.

  He never got to see her finally fulfill her only dream: to prevent what she had named "Unitatem."

  To come forth—whether in success or in failure—was, for her, only to prove that it was possible to stop what she believed to be the greatest act against universal free will, one that would affect all realities.

  Realities that had existed in the past, exist in the present, and would one day still come to be.

  This made the Count, now in the present, deeply aware that the world had split in two: one side following the wishes of harmony and unnecessary nonviolence, as desired by Luna.

  And the other side yearning for vengeance—vengeance against those who had extinguished (murdered) the light (Luna) of the world of Oculi ten years ago, when she had only thirty years of age.

  The true culprit, not of Oculi’s own reality, but rather someone—some people—originating from the human world, more specifically, the planet Earth.

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  The Count, once again reflecting on all of this, found himself now, in the present day, just a few days back in his world of origin after nearly five years of absence from that other world.

  He seemed to look forward again, his gaze revealing a weariness—not of the present, nor of having to consider the countless possible futures.

  But rather, the exhaustion of having to feel once more, as if for the first time, that pulsing, silent sensation that afflicts all who follow Luna’s teachings.

  Even if that silent anguish varies in its intensity, the irrational pain of Luna’s absence is so profound that it makes the heart feel the weight of all the time that has passed. And now, in the present, those who feel it most deeply are:

  The young Lilian, Luna’s youngest daughter, only fifteen years old, and the legitimate successor to her mother after her departure from the throne upon her death.

  Miss Urius, twenty-three, Luna’s middle daughter, who now serves as advisor to her younger sister, her left hand in matters of Reginae leadership.

  Miss Nox, twenty-five, the eldest daughter of Luna, who acts as Lilian’s right hand and, above all, leads the forces of Reginae in the human world.

  Not against humanity—but to protect it from the shadows of their own kind: the Oculi of the Inanis faction, who seek vengeance upon the entire human race.

  And lastly, the Count himself—the only true friend Luna had since childhood. The one in whom she had entrusted the safety of her daughters,

  Should she and her husband perish during their first diplomatic journey to the human world, ten years ago.

  The Count took a deep breath, forming on his lips a smile that was both genuinely painful and furious as Luna’s words from the past echoed once again in his mind.

  Words that made him promise he would not go to the human reality by her side, and that he would stay with those she loved the most — their two, no, three daughters.

  With all his strength, he had tried to refuse to remain in that world, for it had always been his duty to protect her, even at the highest cost.

  But he never had the strength to go against what would become her final request in life — a request that, in the present, wounds him so deeply, for it was both the first and last promise he ever made.

  And if he had not obeyed, if he had refused to let Luna go without his presence, she might still be alive.

  Even if that meant it would be at the cost of his own life during the process of returning to the world of Oculi safely, in case something went wrong in the first contact between the Oculi and the humans.

  And so, in the present, he closed his eyes under the weight of the ache in his heart, yet still heard Luna’s voice from the past comforting him.

  That voice — so gentle and full of care — called out to him through the darkness, making him feel as if every sorrow and sadness was being swept away from his heart.

  Whether he was in the present or the past, just that gentle smile, along with her uniquely intense and special gaze.

  Was enough to make him feel truly happy and embraced, even though he never quite understood the real reason why it all happened so naturally — simply by looking at his childhood best friend.

  In Luna & Count’s Past

  Across Different Moments in Time

  Thus returning to one of the many memories in the flower grove behind the royal castle—long before Luna, at the age of fifteen, had her first daughter, Nox.

  That grove, nestled in the castle's rear gardens, was the place where Luna—then fourteen and already far more mature—loved to spend her free hours reading alone between the obligations of her royal duties.

  There, in the quiet of the afternoons, only the sounds of birdsong and the gentle breeze could be heard by her, echoing through the calm of the castle as the maids went about their work.

  Those moments were the most special to her, while the Count—also fourteen—was already responsible for her personal security within that part of the castle.

  Whenever he walked through the grove, he would always seem to glance at her from afar, seated in her chair by the table, shaded by her parasol.

  She would often be dressed in those elegant yet more casual gowns of the royalty, sometimes seen gently tending to her long blond hair—an inheritance from her noble lineage.

  All of this made her appear even more beautiful in the eyes of the Count, especially when combined with the subtle smiles and fleeting glances she gave as she read.

  Despite his young age, the Count was already exceptionally skilled—one of the strongest in the castle—and served only Queen Luna, loyal to none else in the royal family.

  Many times during his routine walks through the grove, he would unknowingly find himself smiling softly while watching her enjoy her books.

  He admired not only the beauty of those simple, yet deeply special moments, but also the expression on her face that revealed she was genuinely, utterly happy.

  And so, time and again, in those very same moments, Luna would begin to notice she was being watched—admired, in fact—with such quiet and devoted attention.

  She would catch his subtle glances toward her direction as she sat, often sipping tea and reading her tales and books in that same grove.

  With the flowers swaying gently in the breeze, her long blond hair would sometimes be swept aside, needing her to delicately adjust it with her hand.

  And in those small gestures, she would most clearly sense the depth of his admiration—for her, for her elegance, and for the softness of her movements.

  During his quiet patrols around the grove, the Count would always try to step lightly on the grass, never wanting to disturb what he understood to be her most treasured and private moments.

  Little did he know that the many times she smiled to herself—so sweetly, so silently—he was the reason behind it, through the silent affection and care he conveyed.

  For though he believed himself to be perfectly discreet, to the eyes of someone who, too, had watched him with tender attention since childhood, his feelings were plain to see.

  To Luna, who knew his subtleties so intimately, it was far too easy to read the gestures that would go unnoticed by the rest of the world—but never by her.

  The Count looked at her, admiring her happiness as she read her favorite books in that forest, which had only become so full of flowers thanks to the way Luna had cared for it over the past few years.

  At times, when she grew bored, she would playfully tease him, telling him not to hide that adorable smile—something that, to her, was incredibly special.

  For Luna, having had a dear friend by her side for so many years, often found herself motivated solely by that smile, which held countless meanings for her.

  Since her childhood—long before her ascension to the throne, after the tragic death of her parents when she was still a child—the Count had been the first and only person she truly.

  Did not wish to lose in any way, as she had lost her parents. For after their death, he had become her first and only safe harbor.

  Thus, during her wedding at the age of sixteen, following the birth of her first daughter, Nox, when she was just fifteen...

  The Count was granted the greatest honor of his entire life on that most special day—an honor that immediately displeased all members of the royalty from the twelve noble families of the world of Oculi.

  But one person did not show disapproval at that wedding, nor at Luna’s actions: her future fiancé, who was also sixteen at the time.

  He understood the reason why Luna—his future wife—did not seem to care about the furtive glances or the subtly disdainful tones in the voices of those attending the ceremony.

  For that honor bestowed upon the Count during the wedding went completely against the etiquette of the royalty, upheld for centuries by kings and queens of old.

  During their marriages, such traditions were sacred. Yet she held the Count’s hand, dressed in her beautiful black evening gown adorned with white-stitched details...

  And walked toward her future groom, who waited smiling at the altar, admiring the simple act of the Count accompanying her down the aisle.

  Her fiancé felt joyful to see her accompanied, in such a significant and unique moment, by the one who had been by her side since childhood.

  The Count was to her what no amount of money could ever buy, nor any power ever grant in a lifetime.

  He was what she valued most above all things in that world — nothing less than a true and genuine friendship, so profound that it transcended all else.

  It was as if their two souls were in perfect harmony, never needing to speak a thousand words when a single gesture, in utter silence, could convey everything between them.