Darkness surrounded him.
Not the peaceful kind—but the suffocating kind, heavy and endless.
Aster floated in it, weightless, his consciousness drifting like ash in the wind.
Then—
A faint light appeared.
Soft.
Warm.
Hazy.
A figure emerged from within it.
A woman.
Her form was indistinct, wrapped in radiance, her face blurred as if the world itself refused to fully reveal her. Yet her presence alone sent a strange familiarity through Aster's soul.
He knew her.
Even without remembering her name.
She looked at him gently.
"Aster…"
Her voice echoed not through his ears, but directly into his heart.
"Do you remember your dying wish?"
Aster's breath caught.
Fragments flooded his mind—
A dark sky.
Lightning tearing through clouds.
A broken twenty-five-year-old man kneeling on cold earth.
*Is it even possible for me to become an artist… one who can make people smile?*
The woman stepped closer.
"Have you fulfilled it?"
Aster clenched his fists.
"…I'm trying."
She tilted her head slightly.
"Have you become a singer big enough? Strong enough? Someone who can protect what matters?"
Images flashed before him:
Astra laughing beside him.
Arlienne smiling through tears.
Snowflake Mansion glowing under lantern light.
Then—
The empty carriage.
His mother screaming his name.
His chest tightened painfully.
"No…" he whispered. "Not yet."
The woman's gaze softened.
"I am the one who carried your soul to this land," she said quietly.
Aster's eyes widened.
"You're—"
"A goddess," she replied, without pride or arrogance. Simply stating a truth.
He swallowed.
"Then why…?"
"Because you are wasting your gift," she said gently—but firmly.
Aster flinched.
She raised her hand, and sound itself seemed to bend around her.
"You were reborn with **Sound Magic** not to merely sing."
Her voice deepened.
"Sound is vibration.
Vibration is force.
Force can protect—or destroy."
Aster's heart pounded.
"You can heal.
You can inspire.
You can guide."
Her eyes burned brighter.
"And when needed… you can fight."
She leaned closer, her voice a whisper now.
"Wake up, Aster Snowflake Wynfall."
"Think."
"Use sound not just as music—"
"But as *power*."
The light flared—
And the darkness shattered.
***
Aster's eyes snapped open.
Pain surged through his head.
The scent of foreign leather filled his nose.
The carriage rattled violently beneath him.
*We're moving.*
Instantly, his body tensed.
"Astra—!"
He pulled her close without hesitation, wrapping one arm around her protectively.
She was still unconscious.
Breathing.
Alive.
Relief flooded him—followed immediately by cold fury.
Chains of mana suppression circled the carriage walls.
Foreign runes.
Crude, but effective.
*Kidnapped…*
Aster's jaw tightened.
Then he remembered the goddess's words.
*Sound is vibration.
Vibration is force.*
He closed his eyes.
And thought.
Not of songs.
Not of melodies.
But of frequency.
Pressure.
Resonance.
He drew a careful breath.
Holding Astra closer, he tilted his head slightly upward—
And opened his mouth.
There was no music.
No rhythm.
No beauty.
Just pure intent.
A sharp, concentrated ultrasonic wave exploded outward.
The sound itself was inaudible to most—
But its effect was catastrophic.
The carriage walls screamed.
Glass shattered instantly.
Metal buckled inward.
Runes cracked like fragile ice.
The carriage detonated in a violent shockwave of sound.
Wood splintered.
Wheels tore free.
The driver was thrown clear, screaming.
Aster twisted his body mid-blast, shielding Astra with his own back as debris flew past them.
They slammed into the dirt.
Hard.
Aster rolled, cradling Astra, absorbing the impact.
The forest exploded into chaos.
Birds fled.
Trees shook violently.
The shockwave echoed across hills and valleys—
A sound so unnatural that even the night itself seemed to recoil.
Miles away—
Pegasus riders froze.
"What was that?!"
Duke Leon's head snapped toward the eastern forest.
"That sound—!"
Horns blared instantly.
"That came from the east!"
"Move! NOW!"
Pegasus wings thundered as knights dove toward the source.
***
Back at the crash site—
The kidnappers staggered to their feet, ears bleeding, vision spinning.
"What the hell was that?!"
Before they could react—
A small figure stood among the wreckage.
A white-haired boy.
Silver eyes burning.
Holding a white-haired girl tightly against his chest.
Aster looked at them coldly.
"You should've tied my mouth," he said quietly.
The forest wind howled.
In the distance—
The beating of massive wings grew louder.
Aster adjusted his grip on Astra.
"No one touches her," he whispered.
Not again.
Above the treetops—
Pegasus shadows descended.
The hunt had found its target.
And the night was about to erupt.