Acheron gazed at the spot where Aventurine had been struck, her slash leaving a cosmic rift in the fabric of the dreamscape.
"May you find your own salvation in the space of Nihility," she whispered, her voice echoing faintly in the vast emptiness.
Despite the theater brimming with eccentric artifacts, it had never felt so desolate as it did in the aftermath of her unleashed power. The silence was profound, resonating with the gravity of her actions.
The emotion-fueled slash she had delivered to a member of the Stonehearts was charged with feelings long suppressed—emotions that invigorated the living, that were dangerously potent.
Indeed, it was a surge of negativity, unleashed inadvertently. Acheron hadn't intended to lash out so violently, but Aventurine's provocation about Caelus had pushed her beyond her limits.
"I tried, and tried to remain calm... but every day, it just keeps getting harder."
Nihility had once stripped her of her emotions, leaving her detached from the familiarity of feeling. Now, as these emotions surged back, they came with overwhelming intensity, akin to relearning how to walk.
She sheathed her sword, her hair returning to its purple hue, her battle attire unchanged.
Looking upwards, she noticed that the slash had extended into the dream's sky, the void expanding into an unholy blend, a corruption that seemed out of place.
She dismissed any concern that she might have overdone it. Everyone has a breaking point, right?
To Acheron, Aventurine had simply been a convenient outlet for her pent-up rage.
Shaking her head, she muttered to herself, "No... Caelus wouldn't approve of such impulsiveness. Acting out of anger would only diminish his regard for me..."
Guilt washed over her as she pondered if staying by Caelus's side could have prevented his disappearance.
Typically, such questions would be resolved by experience, by someone showing her the way, leading to insights that would resonate deeply within her heart. But...
She didn't know, and that uncertainty pained her deeply.
---
"Mikhail...? You son of a gun."
Gallagher couldn't hide his surprise. He had orchestrated the group's movements to allow Micah to lead Caelus into learning more about the Father of Penacony, but never had he imagined that Mikhail still existed, now in the guise of Misha.
As he watched the group move ahead, pinning them to a specific location, he lingered behind, his gaze fixed in the direction where he felt Mikhail's profound aura permeating the dreamscape.
Before long, Micah returned, his expression taut with tension. Gallagher didn't hesitate to probe, "So... how is he? The old man."
Micah sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. "To be honest, I'm exhausted. I never expected him to appear. He should have been... well, dormant. Yet, here he is, still driven by his vision, or perhaps the absence of it."
Gallagher smirked, understanding the tenacity of the man in question. "You know how he is, always hell-bent on realizing his ambitions. It wouldn't surprise me if he orchestrated all this, foreseeing events as if reading the stories written in the stars."
Nodding, Micah swiped the bottle from Gallagher's pocket and remarked, "Given that, it's no wonder Misha bears such a striking resemblance to him. He's almost exactly how I'd imagine Mikhail looked in his youth." With that, he downed the contents of the bottle in one gulp.
YOU ARE READING
Her Beacon (Acheron x Caelus)
Adventure(Story Completed) In the starlit festivities of Penacony, she meets Caelus, a figure shrouded in mystery who shines as a beacon into her enduring night. He was her light, and she was his darkness-each the counterbalance to the other in a destiny lon...
