The world settled into a quiet kind of peace after that.
The stars still burned. The galaxies still spun. But now, everything seemed to listen more. The song of creation had changed—from something grand and unreachable to something close, something human.
People began to live their lives not as if they were small parts of a massive story, but as if every moment was the story. Every laugh, every tear, every small choice—they all mattered.
The gods still watched, of course. Aria, Fenric, Laxin, and even Equinox—they lingered like soft echoes in the background. But they didn't guide or command anymore. They just… observed. Proudly. Quietly.
Aria often smiled as she watched mortals sing and love and fight and forgive.
Fenric would laugh softly whenever someone lit a fire to keep warm, as if remembering that first spark of courage.
Laxin, ever the playful one, liked to nudge fate here and there—just enough to keep things interesting.
