In the distant past, after that fateful day, everything in the world suddenly felt unbearably far away.
For Nero, when she finally awoke, it was like the faint intoxication that follows wine — that subtle, hazy dreaminess where, in an instant, the world before her eyes became light and unfamiliar, a fragile illusion shimmering with ephemeral beauty.
The great Roman Empire did not collapse into turmoil because of Novia's absence. Quite the opposite — peace endured.
Everything was set in order by Novia before he departed. The empire's wheels turned as before, and the venerable clergy did not descend into petty struggles over the papal seat. Just as the voice they'd once heard had commanded, they labored with reverence and devotion — because of the promise that lingered in their hearts:
"Yes — no matter the time, I shall be by your side. By my name—Novia."
Nero had not heard those final words herself — she'd been unconscious then.
But when she learned of them later, from others' mouths, she smiled.
To her, the time she spent with her teacher was beyond compare — the one treasure of her life that she could forever take pride in.
And yet… it was a cruel way to part.
The Rose Emperor believed that it was her own weakness that had led to such an end. From that day onward, she lived precisely as Novia's plans had dictated — unyielding, meticulous, tireless. She expanded the Roman Empire eastward, bringing the eastern lands beneath imperial control and restoring Rome's glory. The city she founded in the east — New Rome — would in time rival the old.
Later, she became the second Pope of the Holy Church, spreading the faith across all of Europe. To those small nations, beset by foreign invaders and clinging to Rome for survival, she was like a lighthouse in a storm — radiating unending light.
From that day on, the girl lived through many things.
When Shiali came to her with a request, Nero did not refuse — even when that request seemed utterly impossible: to carry the corpse of Albion, the mightiest of dragons, into the Sea of Stars.
It was an impossible task.
For this was no longer the Age of Gods — the paths were closed, and even the two of them together could not pierce through by force as the great dragon once did.
But even so, the two of them devoted nearly their entire lives to the effort.
When at last Shiali passed away, Nero — weary and alone beneath that sunless island — saw, or thought she saw, a vision.
The world turned blue. Boundless, dreamlike blue, stretching to infinity. Countless motes of light gathered and enveloped the dragon's body, carrying it into the heart of the stars.
And Nero, the woman once called Emperor, was left alone — to remember, to accept, to resolve herself.
Laughter. Fatigue. Wounds. Regret. Confusion. Tears.
And then, the resolve to keep protecting what was left.
She waited. Listened. Day after day. Watching Rome with a gentle gaze, waiting for the day they would meet again — the words she wanted to say ready in her heart.
Each time she closed her eyes, the days she had clung to so tightly would rise before her mind's eye — time soaked in tears, memories dim yet beautiful. Though the sky and the world had changed beyond recognition, her longing never faded, not by even a breath.
The Emperor — steadfast as stone — stood her silent vigil for an age.
There were no worshipers left to praise her. No witnesses to testify.
And still, she remained.
A flower entwined with the one she loved,
A flame watching over a sea of blossoms.
Swaying gently.
Flickering softly.
Alone,
Dreaming of those cheers long past —
Dreaming of the possibility of reunion —
As if believing in it were enough to make it real.
And at times she wondered — wasn't this solitude itself proof that she had broken free from the fate once destined for her?
"Teacher, can you hear me?"
My voice… I'm still waiting for you.
No answer. But she never expected one.
After that day, after every bout of despair and weeping, she would simply collapse onto a bench and stare into the distance — numb, expressionless, haunted by regret.
Even she could not bear it anymore — the shame, the weakness, the ugliness of her former self. Nero laughed bitterly at the thought.
No matter how she called for him, her voice could never reach.
She knew that. And yet she never stopped calling.
"Even if you are no longer by my side,
even if I hold nothing,
just knowing I once made that promise to you —
that alone is enough."
Still… how she wished her teacher could smile beside her again.
How she longed to see him, to feel his warmth, the man who once protected her.
She remembered everything — how he walked, how he spoke. She kept those days close in her heart.
And though the years without Novia hardened her expression, her chest would still ache with every memory.
She regretted it — deeply.
All the words she never said.
All the times she wished to say, "Teacher, I want to see you. I want to hold you tight and never let go."
In this world without her teacher, the girl still could not stop calling his name.
"Novia…"
Every time she closed her eyes, that time of love reappeared. Though the world might change, not even eternity could erase her longing.
"My teacher… perhaps you're still out there somewhere, doing something important, helping someone in need."
"Even if you're weary or sorrowful, you always stand up again for others. That's the kind of man you are."
"That's why… I'll wait for you. I have to find you."
"Yes… I've always been waiting."
"I'll study hard again, like before."
"I'll cook your favorite meals with my own hands."
"I've changed so much since then…"
"So I'll wait for you…"
"Domitius will always wait for her teacher…"
The aged Emperor smiled as she gazed at the rose resting on her fingertip.
The rose swayed in the breeze — bashful, as though nodding.
Raising her hand, she released it.
It drifted upward, toward that vast and distant sky, until it vanished.
She stretched her limbs, smiling faintly.
The sunlight was merciless. Even with her eyes closed, she could still see its brilliance.
And in that moment, she murmured—
"I've been waiting all this time…"
Something brushed her back — a petal, caught by the wind.
She opened her eyes.
And realized the truth — her life had reached its end.
The pain was sharper than any before, and tears streamed uncontrollably.
"...What kind of joke is this…? It can't be… I haven't… I haven't seen you yet… Teacher… Novia…"
Her broken body had only endured this long because she'd promised him she would.
If only nightmares could fade with the morning light.
But this one — she could never wake from.
Even though she'd sworn never to cry again, his face — the side she remembered best — appeared before her eyes.
She still remembered that face.
The face of the one who taught her the meaning of love.
How she wished she could meet him again.
The aging Emperor knew it was self-delusion.
Her sighs lingered in the twilight, silent as the wasteland's wind.
Across heaven and earth, eternal quiet.
How unwilling she was to let go…
Leaning back in her chair, she released her final breath — peaceful, as though simply drifting to sleep.
And in that moment, she buried herself within the world.
All motion ceased.
Time stood still.
And then—
She saw it. The sea that had always called to her since childhood.
The world was red — an endless sea of roses.
She thought she saw a black ocean beneath it all. Her vision blurred with tears, the tide rising and falling with her memories, as if knocking upon the door of her past.
Without looking back, she walked toward the shore — sobbing, trembling, overwhelmed by pain and grief.
She saw her reflection in the dark water — distorted, unfamiliar. And for a moment, she wondered:
If she reached into the water, could she end it here?
But she only smiled faintly, shook her head, and turned away — walking onward, toward the end.
Because she had made a promise to her teacher.
After that day, she would often recall it — running through the green slopes beneath the trees, letting the wind carry her memories.
Endlessly repeating.
An unending loop of time.
Teacher, did you know? This love I can't contain — it could burst forth at any moment.
Golden wind. Falling leaves.
In my memories, you were there in that room, reading. Drowsy before your books, while I quietly leaned beside you — wishing to stay in that peace forever.
I just wanted to be surrounded by that warmth — nothing more.
Only you.
Always you.
You, the unchanging you.
Please don't forget me.
Please keep me within your eyes.
I've always loved you — and I always will.
Because only you are you.
And now, my teacher… your disciple, Domitius — was she ever worthy of your love?
The wind stopped.
The petals stopped.
Her body stopped.
Her voice stopped.
Her breath stopped.
Her heart stopped.
And thus, her life ended.
The Age of Gods came to its end, and resurrection became but a miracle beyond reach.
Yet, in that moment — the heavens turned blue. Endless, boundless blue, and in its depths, small, round lights shimmered into being and slowly rose, wrapping around the fallen Rose Emperor.
And after untold years, she opened her eyes once more — reborn as the Beast called Draco.
She would not yield.
She would not stop.
Her wish — buried deep after countless tears — was only one:
No matter what it takes, I will find my teacher.
No matter where he is — I will find him.
Even if she must wait alone in silence.
Even if loneliness devours her.
She will find him again.
My beloved… when that day comes, beneath the summer sky, give me a great, warm embrace.
Let us share our joy, our sorrow, our memories, our wishes — everything — in that one embrace.
In the endless night, let us feel each other's weight, hear each other's heartbeat.
That alone will be more precious than anything.
It will be — the same warmth as that day long ago.
"I love you, my teacher — Novia."
…
And in that blood-red world — long after the Holy Grail War of the Snowfield — she felt that familiar presence.
Draco lifted her gaze from the trembling sea of blood.
Sitting upon her throne, tail submerged in crimson, she opened her eyes.
And in her ears, she heard it — that distant, beloved voice.
"'The symbol of prosperity and passion, the radiance of Rome's mercy — all of it blesses you.'
Wasn't that what you said, Teacher?"
She called out to the one who could never be replaced.
She knew this monstrous form should never exist before him — and yet, it no longer mattered.
"...Teacher, you've come at last... I've become a sinful beast now, haven't I? You'll come to judge me, won't you? So why… why won't you come see me?"
Draco turned back toward the sea of blood that followed her, gazing at the rain of crimson that drenched the world.
"Is it because I've become ugly? Because you can't bring yourself to kill me? Because you hate me now?"
That day, you risked everything to save me.
And now, perhaps, you're still atoning for the sin I forced upon you.
All the pain you bear — it was punishment meant for me.
That's why…
I want to return everything I received from you.
"I give you my entire life. Everything I've ever had — it's all yours."
"Ah… but it's all right, Teacher. Even if you despise what I've become. Even if you must kill me.
I'll still come to find you… even if it means dying by your hand."