The tavern was filled with the warm scent of burning wood and the low hum of conversation. The firelight danced on old oak tables, casting flickering shadows that seemed to breathe life into the walls. Ragnar leaned silently on the window, the faint crimson hue in his eyes reflecting the distant lanterns of the medieval city beyond. The heavy silence that followed his long story lingered between him and Lyra—neither tense nor peaceful, but weighed with the everything lived and lost.
Lyra, sitting across the table, traced her fingers on the rim of her cup. Her expression was soft, thoughtful. The tale Ragnar had told was something beyond her imagination—a story of gods and machines, of the rise and fall of powers that transcended the natural order. Yet, despite its immensity, she didn't feel distant from it. On the contrary, something about that story felt deeply familiar, as though it had always been a part of her own.
Ragnar turned toward her, his cape rustling faintly. "Everything you want to know, you know now," he said quietly. "After today, we will still be like every day, okay, Lyra?"
She lifted her gaze. The spark in his ruby eyes was steady, unyielding, yet there was a gentleness buried in that light—a warmth only visible to one who had looked at him long enough. Lyra smiled, a radiant, thunder-spark smile that could light the entire tavern.
"Okay! From now on, I hope you will help me, Crimson Knight, Ragnar."
He paused, a faint chuckle breaking the stoic façade. "I hope so too, Thunderbolt Mage, Lyra."
For a moment, the past seemed to dissolve into nothing more than a whisper, carried away by the wind that slipped through the cracks in the tavern's door. The thunder continued to rumble, not as a symbol of the past, but of the new road that awaited them.
High atop the rusted watchtower in the ruined military base, the night stretched endlessly—a sky painted in bruised gray, with the faint glow of distant lightning streaking across the horizon. The world beneath was cold, broken, and crawling with the restless dead. Yet, amidst that silence, two figures stood against the wind.
Noctus's breath formed small clouds of mist as he looked up, his azure scarf fluttering wildly. Artemis stood a few paces away, her long silver hair flowing freely, her eyes calm as ever—eyes that had seen too much loss, too much pain.
The story had ended, but the silence that followed it spoke louder than words.
Finally, Noctus inhaled deeply. "Let the wind blow away everything in the past," he said, his voice barely audible over the storm brewing in the distance. "From now on, let's survive and save this world together, Artemis."
The wind howled through the steel frame of the tower, but within that sound, Artemis heard something human—sincere. She tilted her head slightly, her gaze softening. A small smile, fleeting and fragile, crossed her lips.
"Okay. Happy cooperation, Noctus."
For the first time in a long while, she felt the faint pulse of hope—faint, like the heartbeat of the dying world below, but alive nonetheless.
Far away, beneath the endless clouds and over the drowned remains of continents, the airship Arkworld AW-03 floated gently above the waves. Inside its cabin, the gentle rhythm of the sea played like an ancient lullaby. Tiama sat by the small window, her gaze lost in the reflection of sunlight on water.
Across from her, Gaiard sat with the ease of someone who had already made peace with chaos. The soft clink of porcelain echoed as he took a sip of tea.
"What happened," he began slowly, setting the cup down, "let's bury it. From now on, the only thing we can do is live our lives to the fullest in this world, okay, Tiama?"
Tiama's emerald eyes glistened as she turned toward him. The grief that had once lived there seemed to have softened, replaced by something gentler—something that looked like acceptance.
"Sounds great," she said quietly, a small but sincere smile touching her lips. "Then let's make the continent rise from the bottom of the ocean again, Gaiard!"
He grinned, leaning back in his chair, his voice echoing with both amusement and conviction. "Yeah. Awesome!"
Outside, lightning flickered across the sea, and for a heartbeat, the reflection of two smiles merged with the glow of distant storms.
In the restaurant under the planet's stratosphere, the hum of engines filled the space with a mechanical rhythm. Ignis sat with his feet up on the chair, flipping a piece of steak with his fork as though the weight of the universe's truths meant nothing to him.
Flamme, sitting opposite him, still seemed lost in the echoes of his story—the tale of beings trapped between man and god. She had expected melancholy, perhaps solemnity, but instead, Ignis looked… free.
"That's the past," he said casually between bites. "Then just forget it. Now I'm just a new instructor at the Space Exploring Officer Academy, right, Flamme?"
Flamme blinked, caught off guard by his sudden shift in tone. After all that… he could simply smile and move on? She sighed softly but couldn't help the small laugh that escaped her lips.
"I hope you will help me in the future, Instructor Ignis."
He smirked, raising his glass in mock salute. "Let's train the most elite Space Exploring Officers together, Instructor Flamme."
Oustide, the hum of the ship's core deepened, and beyond the glass window, the endless stars shimmered. Two flame drifting amidst a universe full of them—new companions in the eternal sea of space.
At a quiet café deep in the Ranker city, the aroma of coffee mixed with the faint buzz of energy from the nearby Awakening Gate. Friz awared of it, but still sat back in his chair, sipping fruit juice through a straw with lazy precision.
"The path I've chosen," he said finally, "is to become a Ranker and explore the mystery behind the Gates. What about you?"
Across from him, Friya stirred her coffee absentmindedly. The spoon clinked softly, rhythmic and slow. For a while, she didn't answer.
"I still don't know what I should do," she said at last. "But I think doing like you might not be a bad idea."
Friz smiled, his gaze drifting toward the glowing Gate in the distance. "Then let's race to see who gets there first."
Friya raised a brow, smirking slightly. "You'll lose."
"Maybe," he said with a shrug, "but I'll enjoy losing to someone like you."
Their laughter mingled with the murmur of the café, light and fleeting, like the moment before dusk.
In the heart of the jungle, under the shadow of a colossal tree that pierced the clouds, the air smelled of rain and soil. Heim stood beside Flora, the ground trembling faintly beneath his boots.
"I have made my choice," he said, his tone calm yet filled with unshakable determination. "I will conquer and dominate this world. Want to come with me, Flora?"
Flora hesitated, her hands clutching the hem of her skirt. She wasn't built for conquest or dominance. But when she looked up at him—the untamed strength in his stance, the fire in his eyes—she found herself smiling softly.
"Okay," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "But you will protect me."
He blinked, surprised for a moment, then nodded with a smile that was both tender and fierce. "Okay."
A roar echoed from the depths of the forest, the sound of beasts bowing to a new order.
And finally, in a canyon between the divide of real and virtual, the world shimmered with data streams and echoing glitches. Alstar stood near the edge, his hand resting on the rock's surface as he turned toward Alexandrite.
"After completing the challenge," he said, his voice steady but kind, "let's explore the secrets of this world together, okay?"
Alexandrite lifted her head from her knees, strands of digital light dancing across her face. Her eyes gleamed with curiosity, alive once more.
"Great idea! Let's try it together."
For the first time, she smiled—a true, unguarded smile—and beside her, Alstar's reflection flickered faintly in the collapsing lines of the digital horizon.
Seven worlds, seven promises.Seven souls that once shared one origin, now walking separate roads under different skies.
And in every one of those skies, as if responding to something unseen, a faint flicker of light appeared—a crimson lightning bolt, a gust of wind, a glint of crystal, a burst of flame, a swirl of frost, a shimmer of leaves, and a streak of photon light.
For a brief instant, all seven glowed together, as though the multiverse itself remembered the unity that once was.