The chamber beneath the sanctuary became deathly quiet.
Even the Luminals stopped moving.
Luke stood frozen with Astrael in his hands while the words echoed heavily through his mind.
The Wounded Realms.
Not destroyed realms.
Not forgotten kingdoms.
Wounded.
As though creation itself had suffered injuries that never healed properly.
Lucien broke the silence first.
"What exactly are the Wounded Realms?"
The Father of All looked older suddenly.
Not physically.
But in the way ancient beings appeared when forced to remember things they wished history had buried forever.
Slowly, the old creator walked toward the awakened murals along the chamber walls.
Golden images shifted softly across the ancient stone as he spoke.
"Before the First War…"
His voice echoed quietly through the sanctuary chamber.
"…creation was far larger than the realms you know now."
The murals expanded outward, revealing entire cosmic systems drifting across existence.
Thousands of realms.
Civilizations.
Dimensions connected through Balance itself.
Luke stared in awe.
"I didn't know there were this many."
"There aren't anymore."
The answer came softly.
Painfully.
The murals darkened.
Suddenly Luke saw:
realms collapsing into corruption,
stars dying unnaturally,
creatures consumed by chaos,
entire dimensions cut away from creation like diseased wounds.
The Father of All lowered his gaze.
"When the Primordials first attacked existence…"
His voice became quieter.
"…we could not save everything."
Lucien's expression hardened slightly.
"So the heavens abandoned them."
The old creator closed his eyes briefly.
"Yes."
Silence followed immediately afterward.
Heavy silence.
Luke stared at the murals showing entire worlds drifting alone in darkness.
Still alive.
Still suffering.
Forgotten.
Aurelion slowly stepped forward.
Its massive wings folded tightly against its ancient body.
"THEY WERE SEALED AWAY."
The murals shifted again.
Now they showed gigantic celestial gates being closed across existence while broken realms disappeared behind endless barriers of light.
Luke's chest tightened painfully.
"They were trapped there?"
The Father of All answered quietly:
"We believed isolation was mercy."
Lucien looked unconvinced immediately.
"That sounds dangerously close to cowardice."
The old creator did not argue.
Because deep down…
part of him agreed.
Luke slowly looked toward Astrael.
The sword pulsed sadly in his hands.
"It remembers them."
Aurelion nodded once.
"YES."
The ancient dragon's glowing eyes softened faintly.
"THE FIRST GUARDIANS WALKED THOSE REALMS."
Murals along the walls awakened further.
Luke watched ancient wielders of the Heart traveling through corrupted lands carrying Astrael not as conquerors…
but healers.
Helping dying civilizations.
Purifying poisoned worlds.
Comforting abandoned creatures.
Then the images suddenly stopped.
Abruptly.
Violently.
The murals cracked darkly afterward.
Luke frowned.
"What happened?"
Aurelion's expression dimmed deeply.
"THE FIRST WAR."
The chamber lights flickered uneasily.
"THE GUARDIANS DIED."
The Spirit Guide lowered its massive head solemnly.
"And the Wounded Realms were forgotten."
Luke looked down slowly.
Forgotten.
That word hurt more than destruction somehow.
Because destruction at least acknowledged existence once mattered.
But forgetting?
That felt colder.
Crueler.
The boy tightened his grip around Astrael quietly.
Then softly asked the question nobody wanted to hear.
"Are they still alive?"
Silence answered first.
Then the Father of All whispered:
"Some of them."
Luke's heart dropped instantly.
Because he heard the guilt hidden beneath those words.
Some realms survived for ages alone.
Without help.
Without Balance.
Without hope.
One of the Luminals suddenly floated sadly against Luke's shoulder.
The tiny creature dimmed softly like a grieving star.
Astrael glowed warmer in response.
Luke swallowed hard.
"Can they be healed?"
The moment the words left his mouth—
everyone in the chamber looked at him.
Lucien immediately narrowed his eyes.
"No."
Luke blinked.
"I didn't even say anything yet."
"You were about to volunteer for something suicidal."
"I was asking a question."
"You inherited Celestia's 'I can fix cosmic suffering' voice."
The Father of All looked exhausted immediately.
Aurelion, however…
watched Luke carefully.
Very carefully.
The ancient dragon slowly approached the boy again.
"MOST BELIEVE THE WOUNDED REALMS ARE BEYOND SAVING."
Luke frowned slightly.
"But you don't."
Aurelion's ancient eyes glowed softly.
"IF I BELIEVED THAT…"
The dragon lowered its massive head beside Astrael reverently.
"…I WOULD NOT HAVE RETURNED."
The sanctuary winds stirred gently through the chamber afterward.
Luke stared silently at the murals of abandoned worlds.
Then at Astrael.
Then finally at the Father of All.
"Why show me this now?"
The old creator hesitated briefly.
Because the truth was dangerous.
But eventually…
he answered honestly.
"Because the Heart is leading you toward them."
Luke froze.
The Luminals flickered anxiously around him.
Lucien immediately stepped forward.
"Absolutely not."
"Lucien—"
"No."
Infernal shadows moved faintly around Lucien now.
"My son is seven years old."
The chamber shook softly beneath his rising emotion.
"He is not walking into abandoned realms filled with ancient corruption and forgotten suffering."
Luke looked up quietly.
The Father of All remained calm.
"No one is suggesting that happens immediately."
Lucien pointed directly at him.
"You said 'immediately' which means you already considered it."
The Spirit Guide wisely remained silent.
Aurelion looked thoughtful instead.
Because despite Lucien's anger…
the ancient dragon could already feel it.
The pull between the Heart and the Wounded Realms was growing stronger.
Creation itself was beginning to call the child toward its forgotten wounds.
And somewhere far beyond existence…
within realms abandoned by the heavens long ago…
something ancient felt Astrael awaken.