Darkness consumed everything.
Marya floated in an endless void, her body cold, her thoughts fading like echoes in an empty chamber. The warmth of life drained from her, replaced by a creeping numbness that spread from her fingertips to her core. She could feel herself slipping away, each breath growing shallower, each heartbeat growing fainter.
She was dying.
The thought came to her with a strange clarity, devoid of fear or regret. She had always known that this day might come—that the life she had chosen, the path she had walked, would eventually lead her to this moment. She had made peace with it long ago, in the quiet hours of the night when the weight of her mother's legacy pressed down on her like a stone.
She felt the pull of a current, gentle at first, then stronger. It carried her through the darkness, past the scattered fragments of her memories—her mother's smile, her father's distant gaze, the sound of Vaughn's laughter, the weight of Nisshoku in her hand.
And then she saw it.
A towering silhouette began to take shape in the darkness, its form vast and terrible. The grim reaper stood before her, its skeletal frame draped in shadows, its empty eye sockets fixed on her with an ancient, knowing gaze. It raised its scythe, the blade gleaming with cold, silver light.
Marya felt a sense of peace wash over her. She accepted her fate, lost to what could have been but never may be. She closed her eyes and waited for the end.
The scythe began to swing—
And then a silver light blazed through the darkness.
The grim reaper cringed, its skeletal form recoiling as the light enveloped it. A sound filled the void—a deep, resonant call that echoed through the darkness like the cry of a celestial being. It was the sound of a French horn, rich and powerful, carrying the weight of ancient magic.
The wings of the Inmyeonjo beat against the darkness, their silver feathers a fluttering testimony of density. The majestic creature descended, its talons reaching downward, grasping Marya's limp form and lifting her from the river's current. She felt herself being carried upward, away from the darkness, toward a silver lining of celestial light.
The Inmyeonjo opened its mouth, and the French horn sounded again—Siegfried's Horn Call, a cry that resonated through the void like a declaration of war against death itself.
Marya looked up as the Inmyeonjo carried her toward the light, which turned from silver to gold.
---
On the Tatanka Plains, chaos reigned.
Aurélie's steel-gray eyes were fixed on Marya's prone form, her jaw tight, her hands clenched at her sides. Sanza knelt beside Marya, his small hands pressed against her chest, his golden healing aura flickering with desperate intensity. Yuma's hybrid form glowed beside him, his antlers pulsing with warm, soft light.
Sanza's voice was a desperate shriek, tears streaming down his face. "WAKE UP! BIG SIS! PLEASE! YOU CAN'T—YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME! YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE WHO—"
His voice cracked, and he pressed harder, his small shoulders shaking with sobs.
Bō-Zak and Kaburo exchanged a look, their expressions unreadable. Kaburo's voice was flat, emotionless. "She's fading. The healing isn't enough."
Bō-Zak's voice was smooth, philosophical, but there was something else beneath it—a note of genuine concern. "The soul is a fragile thing. Once it begins to slip..."
Atlas's rust-red fur bristled, his blue sapphire eyes fixed on the sky. "Uh, guys..."
Lightning was striking all around them, each bolt closer than the last. Neku's massive form was silhouetted against the chaos, his neck arched as he drew in a breath that pulled the very air from the sky. The clouds swirled above him, blood-red and sulfur-yellow churning together in a maelstrom of chaotic energy.
Aurélie sighed, standing to her feet. Her silver hair whipped around her face, and her voice was flat, deliberate. "She's gone. We need to—"
Before she could finish, the world went silver.
A French horn bellowed across the plains—Siegfried's Horn Call—a sound that came from everywhere and nowhere at once. Everyone's head snapped toward Marya's body as it began to glow, rising from the ground with the slow, inevitable grace of a dawn breaking over the horizon.
Sanza's eyes went wide. "BIG SIS!"
The wind began to blow around her like a funnel, whipping her long raven hair into a cyclone of silver and rainbow. Her clothes shifted, transforming into silver feathered robes that billowed around her like the wings of a celestial being. Her eyes snapped open, glowing with a silver light that pierced the very fabric of reality.
She reached out her arm, and Nisshoku flew to her hand, the blade transforming from obsidian to silver. The crimson runes that had once marked its surface were gone, replaced by patterns of celestial light that shifted and flowed like living things.
Marya's gaze fixed onto Neku, her silhouette taking the shape of the Inmyeonjo as the French horn bellowed louder.
---
Neku sensed the shift in the air.
He paused, his massive serpentine body coiling as he turned to face the source of the disturbance. His golden eyes widened, his crystalline scales shimmering with alarm as he beheld the figure before him.
Marya hovered in the air, her rainbow hair streaming behind her like a banner, each color resonating with the many celestial realms to which they opened. Her silver feathered robes billowed around her, and her eyes blazed with a light that came from somewhere beyond the world of the living.
Neku's voice screeched with ancient fear. "NO! THE CELESTIAL OMEN! YOU ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO EXIST!"
---
On the ground, Aurélie, Atlas, Sanza, Bō-Zak, Kaburo, Yuma, and Aya watched, their eyes fixed on the transformation above. They took a step back, their hands raised to shield their faces from the intensity of the light.
Sanza's voice was a desperate shriek. "BIG SIS! WHAT—WHAT IS HAPPENING?"
He turned to Aurélie, his eyes wide with confusion and hope. "WHAT IS HAPPENING TO BIG SIS?"
Aurélie shook her head, her steel-gray eyes fixed on the figure above. "She may be awakening. A new kind of awakening. Something beyond the fruit."
Bō-Zak's voice carried through the chaos, smooth and philosophical, but there was something else beneath it—a note of genuine awe. "I thought she already did that."
Aurélie shook her head. "I don't know. This may be some other kind of awakening. Something we've never seen before."
Kaburo's voice was flat, emotionless, with practical concern. "We may want to take cover."
Atlas' eyes slide to the side. "Way to state the obvious, Kaburo."
They began to run.
Aya stopped, her eyes fixed on Yuma as he stood frozen, his gaze fixed on the figure above. She called out in desperate concern. "YUMA! WHAT ARE YOU—"
She ran back to him, grabbing his arm. Yuma's gaze shifted to her, his dark, solemn eyes conveying a message that words could not capture. Aya shook her head, her voice cracking. "No. No, you can't—"
Yuma leaped into the air, his body transforming into his beast form as he followed Marya, rising to meet Neku. The golden stag's lyre-shaped antlers glowed with a soft, warm light, his hooves leaving lotus ripples in the air.
Atlas looked back, saw Aya standing alone, and cursed. His rust-red fur bristled with frustration as he turned and ran back to her.
"COME ON!" he shouted, grabbing her and throwing her over his shoulder. "WE DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS!"
Aya protested, her voice cracking with tears. "NO! I CAN'T—HE CAN'T—"
Atlas's voice was flat, unyielding. "Be here for him when he comes back."
Aya's voice was a whisper, broken and desperate. "Will he come back?"
Atlas's jaw flexed. He didn't answer. He just ran, carrying her toward the others as lightning struck all around them, the sky churning with gathering chaos.
---
Neku's golden eyes blazed with fury as Marya closed the gap between them. The French horn grew deafening, each note carrying the weight of a declaration of war. The sky darkened, the lightning intensifying as Neku turned his focus from the island to the two figures charging toward him.
Yuma's beast form bounded beside Marya, his golden antlers gleaming, his hooves leaving lotus ripples in the air. He had made his choice. He would stand beside her, no matter the cost.
Neku's voice boomed across the chaos, wild and defiant. "I WILL NOT BE TURNED BY YOU! THE CELESTIAL OMEN WILL FAIL!"
But even as he spoke, there was something in his voice—a tremor of fear, a crack in his ancient arrogance.
Marya's silver eyes were fixed on him, cold and unwavering.
She raised Nisshoku, the silver blade gleaming with the light of a thousand celestial realms.
The battle was about to begin.
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