The moment the incomplete text from Illiana flashed on the screen, her world shattered.
It was not a metaphorical collapse, but a profound, emotional devastation that ripped through her. For a single horrifying moment, her thoughts blanked completely, her brain refusing to process the implications hidden behind those unfinished words. The lines before her blurred, not from an inability to read, but because an instinct deep within her soul recoiled from its implication.
Her breathing hitched, then died. The entire gazebo fell into a suffocating vacuum of silence, and even the ambient mana around her began fluctuating chaotically, mirroring her internal turmoil.
The sphere slipped from her grasp. It did not fall immediately, but hovered briefly, impossibly suspended in a moment that refused to continue. Then, it clattered against the earth, the small, insignificant sound echoing like a death knell.
Beside her, Cecilia's heart sank. The Duchess had seen it—the thread of destiny connecting her daughter to the one she loved was undeniably extinguished. And now, her worst fear had become reality. She knew this encroaching tragedy would break her fragile daughter for the second time in her young life.
Why... why did this have to happen again? Why must fate always be this merciless toward my daughter…?
Sorrow and pain flickered silently through Cecilia's eyes as she watched the color gradually drain from Sora's face. Her daughter looked as though the very foundation beneath her existence had crumbled.
"Sora—" Anxiously, Cecilia rose from her seat and immediately steadied the girl before her legs could give out entirely. "Breathe," Cecilia whispered, her voice a soft anchor.
Sora didn't.
"Breathe, my sweetheart."
A shudder ran through the younger girl's frame, followed quickly by another. Her hands—bloodless and trembling—rose to clutch at her mother's sleeves. Her sky-blue eyes were wide, vacant, and terrified. "Mo-ther..." she rasped, her voice splintering like glass under a heel. "P-please... forg-ive m—"
Before panic could shatter her completely, a soft radiance spread from Cecilia's hand resting against her daughter's back. It was a high-order emotional stabilization spell. Gentle mana flowed into Sora's trembling body, calming the chaotic storm threatening to consume her mind entirely. It was not enough to erase the anguish—nothing could—but it anchored her, preventing the extreme panic and fright from consuming her excruciatingly.
Slowly, the trembling subsided, and her breathing steadied slightly. The panic consuming her soul dulled just enough for coherent thought to return.
Tears slid down Cecilia's face as she held her daughter tight, stroking her hair like she used to when Sora was a child waking from a nightmare. For nearly a minute, neither of them spoke. Only silence filled the flower garden, accompanied by the distant evening wind, the faint rustling of moonlit lilies, the only sound the ragged, desperate hitching of Sora's breath.
Finally, Sora looked up, her voice laced with a fragile clarity. . "Mother." Her fingers tightening weakly against Cecilia's dress. "I know this is sudden... but I need to return to the Sanctum immediately. Something horrible has happened—"
"You don't have to say it," Cecilia interrupted softly, her hand continuing to caress Sora's back with slow, reassuring motions. "I already know."
Those words only made Sora's chest tighten further. If her mother already knew, then the situation was likely worse than she wanted to believe.
Without wasting another second, Cecilia retrieved a small crystalline artifact from within her sleeve. It was an expensive, one-time-use spatial item capable of opening a temporary, long-distance gateway to previously visited coordinates. Normally, unauthorized teleportation directly into major cities was strictly prohibited under worldly law due to security regulations surrounding dimensional interference. Therefore, the destination chosen was the outskirts of Lumeris City.
The crystal shattered silently within Cecilia's hand. Immediately, a massive violet magic formation unfolded beneath their feet. Space distorted, light twisted inward, and within moments, a radiant portal bloomed open before them. Neither mother nor daughter hesitated; they stepped through instantly.
---
The Grand Hall of External Affairs remained submerged beneath a suffocating silence. The sacred flames flickered quietly against towering marble pillars. Officer Tachibana stood motionless, Commander Dhonmac remained rigid with restrained fury, Illiana continued trembling within her master's embrace, and Elder Ozag's solemn expression had not softened in the slightest.
Then—BAM.
The massive double doors were thrown open with a resounding echo. A figure stood at the entrance: pale, shaking, barely upright.
Sora.
Her white hair, normally immaculate like flowing moonlight, was slightly disheveled from her hurried travel. Her breathing was uneven, as though she had forced herself forward through sheer will alone. But it was her eyes that truly paralyzed the hall. Those beautiful sky-blue eyes, which normally carried a gentle yet distant composure, were now bloodshot with desperation. They darted frantically across the hall.
Behind her stood a woman with golden blonde hair, a presence that commanded attention despite her silence. Cecilia von Luminous. Her light blue eyes, so similar to Sora's yet somehow sharper, swept across the assembly with quiet assessment, instantly reading every expression.
No one spoke. No one dared to.
Sora's eyes found Illiana first and saw tears staining her friend's face, her trembling shoulders. Their eyes met, and Illiana's expression crumpled further, causing Sora's heart to sink deeper.
Next, her gaze moved to Ronan, Derrik, Mira, Tobin, and Lyra—the temporary teammates, the survivors. Their averted eyes and hollow, guilt-ridden faces told her everything she prayed wasn't true.
Finally, her gaze found the elders—Ozag's solemn coldness and Isciel's quiet compassion—before settling on Dhonmac. She saw the barely restrained fury behind his amber eyes and the way his tail lashed like a wounded serpent. The last fragment of her hope turned to ash.
Sora's hand tightened around the arcane communication sphere still glowing faintly in her grip. Her voice, when it came, was soft. It was too soft—the kind of soft that preceded a total breakdown.
"Where is he?"
The question dropped into the hall like a boulder into glass.
Sora's gaze locked onto the familiar JR officer, Tachibana, "Where is Null-san?"
Tachibana's professional composure faltered. "Saintess Sora—"
"I didn't ask what happened," Sora's voice rose. "I asked where he is."
Tachibana hesitated. "Acolyte Null is—"
"Unfortunately..." Elder Ozag spoke before she could finish, his aged voice carrying immense solemnity. "The boy was assassinated, Saintess."
Silence. A single heartbeat passed, then another.
"...How?" the word escaped her lips—a fragile, disbelieving whisper.
Drip... Drip... Drip...
Tears slid across her cheeks slowly, then cascaded into bitter torrent. Sora clutched at her mouth, her entire body vibrating as the reality of the words tore through her mind.
The cruel revelation was a physical blow; her legs buckled, and she collapsed onto the polished marble, her white hair pooling around her like hallowed moonlight.
Cecilia knelt forward to cradle her, but the moment her arms closed around her daughter, she gasped. The grief radiating from Sora wasn't mere sadness; it was a violent, bottomless ocean of despair, as if half of the girl's soul had been brutally torn apart.
Cecilia's heart twisted painfully. Reluctantly, she loosened her hold and allowed Sora to sink to the floor. This pain was not something that could simply be steadied; it needed to break open.
Around the hall, the silence deepened further. Even Commander Dhonmac's raging aura had quieted.
Elder Ozag narrowed his eyes faintly. Truthfully, he had expected anger, shock, and perhaps even sorrow—but not this. The death of that strange, unblessed boy had affected Sora far more deeply than he initially anticipated. Their brief connection was no ordinary attachment, it seems.
Steeling himself, Ozag began reciting the grim facts: the roadside mission, the sudden disappearance, the traces left behind, the confirmed methods of the Obsidian Veil, and finally, the grim conclusion reached by both the Sanctum and the Justice Regulators.
With every word, the atmosphere inside the Grand Hall grew heavier. Everyone present watched Sora's grief with complicated expressions of sympathy, guilt, and unease.
Illiana with guilt and panic rushed forward. "Sora—!"
She knelt beside her best friend; her hands trembling as she tried to offer comfort she didn't possess. She knew better than anyone that Null hadn't just been a friend; he had become the warmth that slowly pulled her friend back into the world. And now, he was gone.
Nearby, Cecilia listened to the elder's words, her face slowly morphing into an elegant, terrifying mask of pure rage.
"Obsidian Veil..." the Duchess whispered, her tone vibrating with a malice that sent a shiver through the room. "That wretched organization again."
The current Cecilia no longer resembled a graceful duchess; she resembled an enraged mother. The Obsidian Veil—that cursed name stirred unpleasant memories she had long buried. And now, it had even targeted her daughter's beloved. Her eyes flared with a murderous light.
"Duchess," Elder Ozag said gravely, "we suspect that someone of high standing within the Atlantis Empire commissioned the assassination."
She understood the implication. Someone had deliberately reached into the shadows to employ the most feared Assassins to eliminate a boy under the Sanctum's protection. This meant either the perpetrator was utterly foolish and insane, or they were powerful enough to believe they could withstand the consequences.
But before she could voice her fury, Illiana's shrieked. "SORAAAAA!!"
Cecilia spun around, her heart violently seizing.
At some point, The ragged, heart-wrenching sounds of weeping stilled. Sora lay motionless in Illiana's arms, her eyes closed and her pale body utterly limp, as though her consciousness had shut down to escape the extreme trauma.
But that was not what horrified them most.
Thin streams of crimson flowed slowly down her pale cheeks. They were blood-red tears—not metaphorically, but literally. Her soul began bleeding through her closed eyes.