First Ring – Faith Sanctum, seventh day of the new dawn
The garden had become its own country.
Children sprinted through golden grass, weaving between marble arches, chasing motes of dawnlight that burst into butterflies the moment tiny fingers closed around them.
SFX: (WHRR—SHHHH) golden particles scattering like bells in water
Sun-Oppa floated lazily three meters off the ground, laughing in a voice like gentle solar storms as three kids clung to his ankles like anchors.
Others sat cross-legged in the grass, folding red paper flowers until the entire lawn looked like it was blooming in scarlet.
From the highest balcony, Si-Hyun watched with the wary awe of someone who had lived too long in ash to trust a miracle.
His two half-dawn wings curled around him like a dark cloak, trembling subtly with each burst of laughter below.
Leah stood beside him, blind eyes closed, a faint smile carved into her face—the kind that comes from listening, not seeing.
Peace.
Fragile. Beautiful. Impossible.
And then—
SFX: (FWOOOOOOOM)
—the sky opened.
Not violently.
Softly.
Like silk being torn by a careful hand.
A single black feather, the size of a city block, drifted downward, leaving a long trail of violet starlight behind it.
Every child froze mid-laughter.
Sun-Oppa dimmed to a faint ember and clung to Ryeo-Won's sleeve.
Si-Hyun's wings flared wide with a sharp (KSHHHH!)
Leah's golden chains coiled out in spirals with a metallic (CHLINK—CHLINK).
The feather touched the air above the garden—
—and dissolved.
Into a man.
Lee Seo-Joon.
Seventh Stellar Lord.
Once Sixth.
The one who broke his own ring "just to see what would happen."
Barefoot.
White pants torn.
Six cracked black rings orbiting him like guilty moons.
He balanced casually on the marble railing, split face smiling too wide.
"Hello, little brother."
Si-Hyun stepped in front of Leah without thinking, wings snapping outward in a protective arc.
"Leave."
Seo-Joon tilted his head, amused.
"I came to congratulate you.
You made the Council look away.
No one's done that since the Architects vanished."
The cracked rings hummed like funeral bells.
"And," he added, spreading his hand, "I brought a gift."
In his palm rested a red paper flower.
Perfect.
Alive.
Edges dripping black blood.
Ryeo-Won gasped.
The first flower she ever gave Si-Hyun.
The one crushed by the jealous scarf seven days ago.
Seo-Joon extended it.
"I thought you'd want this back. Proof that ruined things can bloom again."
Si-Hyun didn't move.
The flower floated toward him on its own.
He caught it.
SFX: (THM…)
A pulse of memory detonated behind his eyes—
him at nine years old, hiding in a pipe, clutching this flower while Iron Maw tortured the only family he'd ever had—
Ryeo-Won folding it with bleeding fingers—
the scarf crushing it in rage—
And now here it was again.
Warm.
Alive.
He looked up.
"What do you want?"
Seo-Joon's smile softened—unexpectedly human.
"I want what you want.
To hear the hollow sun scream.
But I'm tired of doing it alone."
He stepped down from the railing—
—and knelt.
Knelt.
A Stellar Lord.
To a boy who used to fold stolen flowers in the dark.
His six cracked rings dimmed to ash.
"Teach me," Seo-Joon whispered.
"Teach me how to carry children instead of corpses.
Why thirty-seven orphans matter more than seven dying rings."
He took a shaking breath.
"In exchange…"
His voice cracked.
"I give you my wings.
All six.
Break them. Use them. Finish what we started.
Just…
let me stay in the garden sometimes.
Let me remember what it was like to be afraid of the dark
instead of being it."
Everything fell silent.
Even the artificial wind refused to move.
Si-Hyun stared at the kneeling god.
At the children frozen behind him.
At Leah, trembling with golden tears.
At Sun-Oppa clutching Ryeo-Won like a life raft.
Then—
Si-Hyun stepped forward.
Placed a hand gently on Seo-Joon's bowed head.
"Stand up."
Seo-Joon lifted his face—wet, fractured, hopeful.
Si-Hyun offered back the flower.
"You kept it alive," he said quietly.
"That means you already remember.
You don't need me to teach you."
A beat.
"Just stay.
The garden is big enough."
Seo-Joon took the flower—hands shaking like a human's, not a god's—
—and cried.
Not celestial tears.
Not starlight.
Ugly, violent sobs—
SFX: (HNN—KH—HAAAH!)
—the sound of galaxies collapsing.
His six orbiting rings shattered with a scream like ripping metal.
SFX: (KRAAAAK—SHHHHHH!)
Black snow drifted down and dissolved before it touched the ground.
When he finally rose, he was smaller.
Human-sized.
The night sky in his face no longer snarled.
Only watched.
"Thank you."
Ryeo-Won marched forward, dragging Sun-Oppa like a teddy bear.
She placed a new red flower into Seo-Joon's hand.
"This one is yours," she said.
"So you don't forget again."
Seo-Joon knelt—again—for a seven-year-old girl, letting her tuck it behind his ear.
The garden erupted.
Children tackled him.
Pulled at his sleeves.
Forced him into the grass to learn how to fold flowers with hands that had never known gentleness.
Si-Hyun watched, wings trembling.
Leah's hand found his.
Sun-Oppa hovered close, glowing like a second dawn.
For the first time…
all seven Stellar Lords—
or what remained of them—
were together.
And none were fighting.
Above them, the endless dawn burned brighter than the archives had ever recorded.
Below them, red flowers bloomed like a prophecy.
And in the hollow sun, the Devourer stirred—
—and felt,
for the first time in seven hundred years,
afraid.