The air inside the Veil burned cold.
Aster's body floated in the endless expanse, silver threads of starlight coiling around him like serpents. His pulse beat in sync with the rhythm of the cosmos, every heartbeat releasing light that carved ripples through infinity.
His eyes snapped open.
He wasn't alone.
Before him stood a figure identical to himself — same face, same eyes, yet completely void of warmth. Its skin glowed with pale gold, and its gaze shimmered with the madness of a dying sun.
"Who are you?" Aster demanded.
The doppelgänger smiled faintly. "I am what remains of you before the stars were kind."
The space trembled as the figure raised its hand. Around them, fragments of constellations cracked and scattered, reshaping into blades of light.
"You carry the Blood of Constellations," the copy said. "The same power that once created worlds. But you were never meant to hold it."
Aster clenched his fists. "Then why give it to me?"
"Because you were chosen by balance," it whispered. "To burn or to bloom."
The figure lunged forward. Their clash sent shockwaves rippling through the Veil, each impact distorting entire galaxies. Sparks of starlight scattered like embers, slicing through Aster's robes and searing his skin.
Pain shot through him — but within that pain, something else stirred.
He felt it deep in his veins — an ancient pulse, heavy and alive.
When their hands collided again, Aster caught the copy's wrist. "If this blood can destroy me, then I'll make it obey me instead."
The duplicate's golden eyes widened. "You think you can command the stars?"
"No," Aster hissed, pulling the figure closer. "I'll make them remember who they were meant to serve."
He drove his hand into the copy's chest, gripping the core of its light. A flood of visions erupted through him — worlds being born, gods falling, empires rising beneath skies that bled silver. Every heartbeat brought agony, but also clarity.
When the light finally exploded outward, the copy dissolved, scattering into dust that fell like luminous snow.
Aster collapsed to his knees, gasping.
The Veil's heartbeat slowed.
In its silence, a whisper reached him.
Child of the stars… you have rewritten the law.
Back in the mortal realm, Lyra's candle flickered violently.
The entire archive trembled as a wave of starlight surged through the palace walls, shattering glass and tearing through marble.
Guards rushed in, shouting her name, but she could barely hear them.
Every sound drowned beneath a deep, rhythmic pulse — Aster's heartbeat echoing across planes.
Her vision blurred. She saw flashes — Aster kneeling in the void, covered in starlight and blood.
And behind him, constellations wept.
Lyra fell to her knees, clutching her chest. "Aster… what have you done?"
Far away, beneath the sands, the Eclipse Engine roared to life.
Seraphine stood before it, her eyes wide with ecstasy. The veins of the machine glowed gold and crimson, pulsing with divine resonance.
"It has begun," she whispered. "The Blood of Constellations has awakened. The Emperor's power is complete."
Her shadow stretched across the chamber wall, but it wasn't hers anymore. It twisted, lengthened, and in its depths, a shape with wings of pure darkness emerged.
A voice spoke from within that shadow — not human, not divine.
The light is his curse. The heart is our key.
Seraphine lowered her head reverently. "Then the eclipse will feed on his love."
In the Veil, Aster finally rose.
His body was weak, his veins glowing faintly beneath his skin. But his eyes — once cold and sharp — now burned with quiet fire.
He looked up at the swirling void, his voice steady.
"If my blood is the bridge between creation and destruction," he said softly, "then I'll decide where it leads."
The stars trembled in answer. Somewhere beyond them, destiny began to bend.