Five days had passed since Anming shattered the Stellaron.
Cocolia announced her resignation, passing the title of Supreme Guardian to Bronya. As a leader who had nearly betrayed Preservation for Destruction, Cocolia had prepared for death. Yet she lived—to face those she'd failed.
Serval hadn't forgiven her but returned to Qliphoth Fort to dust off old research notes. The weathered guitar in the corner still hummed with memories.
Bronya ventured into the Underworld, witnessing its suffering firsthand. She vowed to bridge the divide between Belobog's layers. Seele, initially dismissive, softened during their time together. The girl was kind, resilient, and earnest—even if her name remained a tongue-twister.
When Seele asked Anming for a simpler nickname, he replied:
"Call her Ya-Ya."
Seele stared blankly. Ya-Ya? But she tried it anyway. To Bronya, it sounded like "Ya-Ya"—a term that flushed her cheeks.
"Seele, don't…" Bronya glanced at Cocolia, flustered.
Seele watched, captivated. Trailblazers really do know everything.
In the Administrative District, Underworlders finally stepped into sunlight. Children laughed under Natasha's watchful gaze. Pelar guided tours with pride, smiling at the thawing world.
The centuries-long blizzard had ceased. Fragmentum influence waned. Gepard led Silvermane Guards to reclaim lost territories, fortifying defenses against lingering threats.
"Tomorrow's Bronya's inauguration," March mused, sipping a neon-colored drink with a heart-shaped straw.
Stelle sighed dramatically. "We barely did anything… Is Trailblazing always this easy?"
"Objectively, the antagonist failed to conceal themselves," Dan Heng noted, squinting at the sun. "But our actions still brought hope."
"See? Dan Heng should handle speeches!" March grinned. Let her roast, Stelle simp, Dan Heng lecture, and Anming slaughter—each role fits!
Stelle lounged, savoring victory—until realization struck.
"Where's Anming?"
March feigned indifference but glanced toward the plaza. Anming stood surrounded by awestruck children, theatrically brandishing his transformation device.
"So… cool!" Clara clasped her hands, cheeks flushed. She longed to dissect the Molten Knight's mechanics.
Nearby, Firefly watched from a bench, smile tender. If only time could slow. These days, Anming had shown her all of Jarilo-VI's beauty. But to her, he was the only scenery that mattered.
"Wow!" Clara's gasp pulled Firefly back. Anming lifted the girl, spinning her midair before setting her down.
"Thank you, Brother Anming!" Clara beamed, still breathless.
Firefly rested her chin on her hand. A hologram flickered beside her—Silver Wolf, lollipop in mouth.
"Time's up."
"I… want more hours with him."
"Extended 12. Leave by 6 AM. IPC's already here."
"Thank you."
Firefly's radiance stunned Silver Wolf. She's found her reason to live.
"Good luck." Silver Wolf winked, vanishing. And don't worry—I'll nuke his phone if he texts another girl.
Anming approached, eyeing the fading hologram. "Was Silver Wolf trash-talking me?"
"She said… she believes in you."
Firefly's lie carried warmth. He always notices me.
"We leave tomorrow," Anming said, sitting beside her.
"And I return to the Hunters."
"Before that… your gift."
He met her gaze—azure galaxies swirling with unspoken words.
Firefly smiled. "I've waited patiently."
What ending could ever match this journey's trials? For her, reuniting with Anming was gift enough. But a selfish wish lingered: Stay with me forever.
Hand in hand, they walked snow-white paths beneath auroras. The lights paled against Firefly's eyes—a beauty no sky could rival.