The first thing Elior felt was warmth.
Not the kind from sunlight, but something gentler — like a heartbeat against his own. When he opened his eyes, the sky above him was torn between night and dawn. Shattered fragments of gold and blue drifted like glass in the air, remnants of the Heart's collapse.
He tried to move, but his body felt weightless, as if he was still half trapped between worlds. The ruins of Solis spread around him — cracked marble, broken sigils, and rivers of silver light spilling from the ground.
And there, kneeling beside him, was Aster.
The crown prince's armor was fractured, his cloak torn. Streaks of dried blood stained his jaw, but his eyes — those piercing, icy-blue eyes — were burning with life again.
He reached out slowly, fingers trembling, as if afraid Elior would vanish the moment he touched him.
"You're awake," Aster whispered.
Elior smiled faintly. "Barely."
Aster's hand brushed his cheek, and for a second, neither spoke. The silence between them carried more meaning than words ever could. The link — the starlight thread that had once been shattered — was pulsing again. Softer, steadier, alive.
Elior reached up and placed his palm over Aster's chest. Beneath his skin, he could feel the rhythm — the same pulse as his own. "We're still connected," he murmured.
"You broke the seal," Aster said. His voice trembled, equal parts awe and disbelief. "The priests said it was impossible."
Elior's smile widened just a little. "I don't believe in impossible anymore."
Aster let out a shaky breath that sounded almost like a laugh. "You reckless fool. You could have died."
"Would you have let me?" Elior asked quietly.
Aster froze.
He looked away, jaw tightening, but his hand never left Elior's. "No," he said finally. "Never again."
The light between them shimmered — the same silver-gold glow that had once been a curse. Now it wrapped around their fingers, like a silent promise.
But the calm didn't last.
A tremor rolled through the ground, followed by a distant roar. The ruins of Solis began to shift, stones grinding against each other as if the world itself resisted what had just happened.
Elior's expression darkened. "The Heart is gone. The balance broke."
Aster stood, pulling him up. "Then we make a new one."
"You can't," Elior said. "The empire won't allow it. The Council of Faith—"
"They can burn," Aster snapped. "If they see us as blasphemy, then I'll become their heresy."
Elior stared at him, startled — not by the words, but by the conviction behind them. The prince who once obeyed every rule now looked like someone ready to rewrite the sky.
"Aster—"
The crown prince turned to him, eyes blazing with both fury and devotion. "You gave me light when I had none. You broke destiny itself just to reach me. Tell me, Elior — how could I ever bow to a world that tried to take you away?"
Elior's breath caught.
For a heartbeat, he saw the man not as a prince or heir, but as someone reborn — forged by love and loss, bound to the same starlight that once cursed them both.
And then, softly, Elior said, "Then let's rebuild it together."
The wind shifted. The fragments of the Heart around them rose into the air, circling like glowing petals. The light followed the rhythm of their joined hands — two pulses, one beat — until it formed a single sigil in the sky: a crown made of stars.
Aster looked up. "What is that?"
Elior smiled faintly. "A mark of our defiance."
The sigil burned brighter, then sank into the heavens — a new constellation born where the old ones had died.
Aster pulled him closer, his forehead resting against Elior's. "Then from this day," he murmured, "the empire belongs not to gods, but to those who dare to love."
Elior closed his eyes, letting the light wash over them both.
When the dawn finally broke, the ruins of Solis were gone. In their place stood a field of starlight — and two figures holding each other at its center.