The sacred sanctuary where the goddess Elyssira resided remained still in its haunting tranquility as Lucien's form dissolved into golden light, drawn away by the threads of awakening. For a heartbeat, there was silence. Then the world around the divine garden shuddered.
The earth beneath the ethereal gazebo cracked with a low, throbbing quake, as if the very roots of the dimension groaned under a pain too ancient to name. Trees quivered. The sky overhead dimmed slightly, not from clouds, but from a quiet sorrow that blanketed the heavens. The wind trembled through the trees like the whisper of a dying prayer.
And yet, the goddess Elyssira did not flinch. Her eyes remained half-lidded, staring into the space where Lucien had vanished. The little girl beside her, still holding her snack with tiny fingers, gazed upward with wide but calm eyes. They were unmoved by the trembling cosmos, as though they had long grown familiar with divine quakes and cosmic mourning.
