The skies of Aurellon had just begun to recover from the storm Seraphine had left behind. The glow of her influence still lingered like a dying ember in the air. Trees twisted with silent groans, and rivers shimmered in unnatural hues. Yet amidst the aftermath, Lucian stood — battered but unbroken — clutching the pendant his mother had once given him, a faint symbol of hope glowing at its center.

  Then came the cold.

  It swept in like a breathless wind, drawing the last warmth from the world. Above the quiet clouds, a second star seemed to flicker — but it was no star. It pulsed with obsidian fire, and from it descended Lunara, Deity of Stars.

  Where Seraphine was seduction and beauty laced with cruelty, Lunara was awe and terror. Her arrival was not accompanied by thunder, but by a pregnant stillness that silenced even the insects. The world seemed to kneel in dread as she touched the ground — tall, regal, and shrouded in darkness lined with starlight. Her hair shimmered with constellations, and her eyes burned like twin novas.

  Her feet did not touch the soil; the very earth refused to hold her weight. Instead, she hovered, divine, beyond mortal comprehension.

  Lucian felt it the moment she arrived. His knees buckled, and his breath caught. The light within his pendant flickered wildly, reacting to the overwhelming presence of a being who had eaten galaxies, slain gods, and laughed in the face of chaos.

  Lunara's voice, when it came, was like the whisper of stars collapsing.

  "You burn too brightly for one so small."

  Lucian did not understand, not yet. He only knew that another enemy had come — perhaps more dangerous than the last.

  "Leave this world," he said through grit teeth, though his voice trembled. "We don't need gods like you."

  Lunara tilted her head, amused. Her expression did not change, yet power oozed from her presence like thick fog. She stepped closer — no, glided — and the world dimmed with every movement.

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  "Your courage is delicious," she said, her voice silky and cruel. "I can taste it in your defiance. You are not like the others."

  With a single wave of her hand, she cast starlight across the horizon. Entire forests wilted in an instant. Mountains cracked and bled molten stone. Cities far off in the distance flickered out like dying candles. No screams — only silence.

  Lucian watched the destruction, pain gripping his heart. And still, he stood.

  The pendant on his chest grew warmer, pulsing like a heartbeat. Lunara noticed.

  "Ah," she whispered. "Something ancient protects you. Something... forbidden."

  The pendant burst with light, forcing her to shield her eyes for a fraction of a second. It gave Lucian a moment — just one — to step forward, emboldened.

  "You're not unstoppable," he said. "You're afraid."

  Lunara did not reply. Instead, she raised a single hand. A beam of cosmic energy fired from her palm, striking the ground before Lucian. A crater formed where he stood — or should have. The boy had leapt, narrowly avoiding death.

  He landed hard, rolling across the dirt, the heat of the blast burning his skin. But he was alive.

  Lunara descended then, gently, placing herself before him. The tip of her finger touched his forehead. Time slowed.

  Lucian saw visions — of Eternal, of destroyed realms, of gods falling to their knees. He saw Seraphine devouring mortals. He saw Oblivion cleaving through dimensions. And he saw himself — standing alone, bathed in light, holding back the night.

  Lunara withdrew her finger.

  "You could be more," she said. "I could make you more. Kneel, Lucian. I will grant you stars."

  He coughed, blood in his mouth, and shook his head. "I'd rather die human than live as your pet."

  Her smile faded.

  "So be it."

  She raised both hands, summoning a celestial storm. Above her, the sky cracked, revealing a swirling void of starfire and chaos. Meteors rained down in a slow arc. Space trembled.

  Lucian stood. Bruised, bloodied, panting. He held the pendant aloft.

  "Then take everything. But I won't fall."

  The pendant exploded in light.

  Lunara paused, watching as the energy grew. A force not born of gods but of mortal will. It pushed against her storm. It held the sky. It forced her back a step.

  "Interesting," she whispered.

  She vanished in a blink.

  Lucian fell to his knees, the light around him fading, the world returning to a fragile quiet.

  Far above, on the edge of the atmosphere, Lunara floated beside Seraphine, who watched silently.

  "He is not ready," Lunara murmured. "But he will be."

  Seraphine smirked. "Should we kill him now?"

  Lunara shook her head. "No. Let him grow. Let him burn. I want to feel it when I extinguish him."

  Together, the queens turned their gaze toward the next world — the next conquest.

  And Lucian, far below, looked to the stars.

  His war had just begun.