The sun rose higher than it had in centuries.
For the first time, the Supreme's lands basked in pure, unbroken light — no haze, no shadow of war. The castle stood tall again, its ancient stones gleaming faintly gold beneath the new day.
The Guardian's light still lingered in the air, soft and protective, threading through every ward and blade of grass. It was as if the entire continent exhaled in relief.
Inside the great hall, Nani — The Supreme, The God of War turned ruler once more — sat in quiet authority. His presence alone steadied the room. The crimson in his eyes had dimmed to a warm garnet; the fury of battle replaced by calm sovereignty.
William stood at his right, issuing orders in his usual, cool efficiency. He was back in command — not as a warrior now, but as the Supreme's hand.
Around them, the remnants of the old Council had gathered — those few who had not betrayed, those who had kept their oath through the chaos.
Nani's voice filled the hall — steady, low, final.
"The Council as it was will no longer exist."
Whispers rippled through the chamber, but none dared to speak.
"The seats of power that sought war, that conspired against the Guardian, are dissolved. Their bloodlines will be stripped of their titles and lands. Authority will return to those who did not stand in the shadows of treachery."
He paused, his gaze sweeping across the silent room.
"From this day, the Supreme Court will be rebuilt — not as chains of control, but as guardians of balance."
William bowed slightly, his lips curving into the faintest smirk. "As you command, Your Grace. I'll handle the... paperwork."
Nani's mouth twitched — the closest thing to a smile he'd shown since the war. "I trust you will."
The next moment, his attention softened. He turned toward the two figures standing to the side — Magnus and Alexander, the Northern and Eastern Lords who had stood beside him when the world was about to burn.
"For your loyalty," Nani said quietly, "you have my eternal gratitude. You stood when others hid."
Magnus inclined his head, his thick braid falling over his shoulder. "Loyalty isn't something you thank for, Supreme. It's something we give freely — to those who deserve it."
Alexander, leaning lazily against the marble pillar, gave him a sideways grin. "He just means he likes you too much to admit it out loud."
Magnus glared, though the faintest color rose in his cheeks. "Keep talking and I'll remind you who saved your ass in that battle."
Alexander smirked. "And who bandaged yours afterward?"
Their bickering earned the smallest laugh from William, and even Nani's gaze softened — an unspoken acknowledgment between old warriors who'd shared blood and fire.
Later that morning, in the courtyard washed with sunlight and stillness, Sky stood with Jacob — the towering wolf whose fur still bore faint scars of the last battle.
Sky looked up — and up again — at the massive man, his arms crossed, tone firm but exasperated.
"You've done enough, Jacob. You've brought me here, protected me. It's time you return to your pack — they'll need their Alpha back."
Jacob's golden eyes flickered like dawnlight, patient but unyielding. "The Guardian is my Alpha now," he said simply. "I was born to guard you, my lord. My duty remains until the moonfire fades from this realm."
Sky sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You make it sound so poetic, but I'm not that helpless. Besides, I already have a job, remember? Supreme's bodyguard? You're not supposed to steal my post."
Jacob blinked, unmoving. "The Supreme can protect himself. You, however, attract danger like moths to flame."
Sky opened his mouth, ready to argue—
—but warm arms wrapped around his waist from behind, pulling him gently against a familiar chest.
The air shifted, the faint hum of power unmistakable.
Nani.
He leaned in close, voice low enough that only Sky could hear.
"Let him stay."
Sky turned his head slightly, catching the hint of a smile ghosting over Nani's lips.
"I owe him a debt," Nani continued softly. "He protected you when I couldn't. That is something I'll never forget."
Jacob inclined his head, a rare, almost reverent bow. "My lord."
Sky frowned, torn between affection and annoyance. "You do realize you're making me look like some fragile little thing, right? He's seven feet tall, Nani. He doesn't even fit through half the doorways here."
Nani said nothing — only tightened his hold, his breath brushing Sky's ear.
"Then he'll guard the doorways."
Sky turned to glare, but Nani only smiled, pressed a kiss to his temple, and walked back toward the castle, his robe trailing behind like a whisper of crimson silk.
Jacob stood there, impassive as ever. "So... should I start following you now?"
Sky groaned, dragging a hand through his silver hair. "Do whatever you want, but if you knock over one more vase, you're paying for it."
From the open archway above, William's voice drifted down dryly, "That'll be a first. Someone bossing around the Guardian."
The courtyard filled with quiet laughter — real, light laughter — something that hadn't existed here for a very long time.
The world, at last, was at peace.
---
A Few Weeks Later
The war had ended, but life — as it always did — moved forward.
Weeks passed.
The scars of battle faded into memory, and the world began to breathe again.
The Supreme Court reopened its halls, this time filled not with schemers and power-hungry elders, but with quiet hums of rebuilding. New order. New balance.
---
In the heart of Hirunkit Tower, the Supreme's penthouse gleamed once more. The city outside pulsed with evening lights — no longer red from warfire, but warm gold from peace.
Nani stood before the glass wall that overlooked the skyline, dressed in black silk and quiet authority. His reflection merged with the city — a king returned to his throne, but softer now, the edges gentled by love.
Behind him, papers were stacked neatly on a table — reports from every continent. William had been efficient, of course.
He always was.
William himself sat on the couch, scrolling through documents, half-listening as Est chattered nearby.
"Honestly," Est muttered, flicking his pen at William's hand, "you'd think saving the world at least earns us a vacation. Or dinner somewhere not haunted by nobles."
William didn't even look up. "We could go to the mountains."
Est blinked. "The frozen ones? The one with no food, no decent bed, and just snow?"
William's lips curved faintly. "Exactly."
Est threw a cushion at him. William caught it without looking — as always. The same stoic, infuriating, and utterly captivating man he was before the war.
Their banter filled the room like old music — sharp, familiar, comforting.
---
Across the city, in a far more chaotic apartment, Felix groaned at the sight before him.
"Sky," he said flatly, "you can't just—"
"—borrow your couch?" Sky interrupted innocently, sprawled across said couch with his silver hair glinting in the city light. "I was in the area."
"The area?" Felix pointed to the balcony where a seven-foot shadow loomed awkwardly. "You brought him again. He doesn't even fit in here, Sky. My apartment is not a werewolf kennel."
Jacob, standing with absolute stillness, ducked slightly to avoid the ceiling fan. "I fit."
"You don't," Felix snapped, throwing his hands up. "You take half the oxygen in this place. Do you even sleep standing?"
Jacob blinked. "Sometimes."
Sky bit back a laugh, badly. "He's just being polite. He didn't even eat your food this time."
"That's because he can't fit in the kitchen!" Felix groaned. "Sky, I swear, one more surprise visit from the Supreme, and I'm moving into the penthouse."
Almost as if summoned by the mention, a soft hum of energy shimmered through the air.
A heartbeat later — there he was.
The Supreme materialized right behind Felix, silent as breath.
Felix yelped, nearly tripping over his own carpet. "See? This! This is what I'm talking about! He just—appears! In my kitchen!"
Nani raised an eyebrow, amused. "Would you prefer I use the door?"
"Yes! Gods, yes!" Felix said, clutching his chest. "Use the damn elevator like everyone else!"
Sky was laughing now, bright and unguarded. He looked at Nani with that same warmth that made everything in the room still for a moment.
"You can't just scare him like that," Sky teased.
Nani's lips curved. "I wasn't scaring him. I was visiting you."
Felix groaned louder. "Oh no, no, don't make this apartment your date spot. Go haunt your penthouse!"
Sky smiled sheepishly. "I'm not haunting. I'm working. Guardian business. Night patrol, remember?"
"Yeah, yeah," Felix muttered, waving him off, "you're the stubborn type of celestial being. Go save someone and stop using my couch as your base."
---
And so it went.
PP returned to his lair — surrounded by spellbooks, trinkets, and half-exploded potions — muttering about "celestial interference with ley lines" while secretly crafting charms to protect his friends.
William and Est ruled the office with their usual dynamic of calm and chaos.
Magnus and Alexander were often seen together — the Northern Lord and Eastern King sparring in the training yard, half fight, half flirtation, both denying it.
Jacob followed Sky like a shadow — a silent, massive guardian in wolf or man form, terrifying everyone but Sky himself.
And Nani?
He returned to ruling — but differently now. No longer from the cold throne of supremacy, but from shared ground. His empire rebuilt not from blood, but from balance.
At night, when the city quieted and even the moon held its breath, the Guardian would sometimes slip into his penthouse again, bringing with him the scent of night rain and the echo of peace.
And Nani — always waiting, always knowing — would pull him close, whisper against his ear:
"Still my light."
"Always," Sky would answer, smiling against his lips.
The cursed was broken.
The gods were bound.
And the world, for once, belonged to both light and blood — together.