“Are you okay?” The first thing in his sight was Yulia’s familiar face, rising like dawn through fog.

What wasn’t familiar was the thaw in her features—winter ice melting to a nervous spring, a girl’s worry shining in her eyes.

A soft ache pressed in his chest; Eli glanced at her, shook his head, and let a quiet sigh drift like mist.

He hadn’t looked closely before; now he saw it—Edlyn and this girl were cut from the same sky, seven-tenths alike, two moons sharing one halo.

That meant Edlyn’s birth lay under the Abyss’s shadow, shaped by that cold, deep tide.

It also showed how deep the Abyss’s feelings for this woman ran—depth like ocean trenches under moonlight.

He sighed, crafted a mask of pain, and hauled himself up like a wounded wolf struggling through thorns.

Yulia’s gaze knotted like tangled threads. “Should I heal you?”

He brushed off the worry with a small shake, like flicking ash from a sleeve. “No need.”

“But you look really badly hurt,” Yulia said, worry fluttering like a trapped bird, her fingers pinching her hem like a chastened child.

Eli let out a muted chuckle; so the Celestial God, high as marble and hard as iron, had a soft, silly blossom tucked inside?

Edward stepped forward, his arm sweeping Yulia behind him like a steel shield, eyes hard on Eli. “Who are you?”

“Me? I… I’m someone your father created to help you,” Eli said, words falling slow like pebbles into a still pond.

“I’ve never heard of you,” Edward snapped, his brows knotting like storm clouds over a dark sea.

Yulia shoved him with a gust of irritation. “Have some conscience! He’s hurt. I’ll heal him first—stop crowing at people like a stray rooster, will you?”

“You—fool! I’m protecting you,” Edward’s anger flared like thrown knives in a wind. “In this savage cosmos, strangers who pop up are dangerous. Do you even have a brain? Did Father forget that part when he made you?”

The heat in her cheeks sparked; Yulia bared her teeth at him, then shoved him again and ran toward Eli like a streak of sunlight. “Are you okay? Let me treat you.”

“You’re generous. That kid’s not wrong, though,” Eli said with a thin smile, a blade of light under cloud. “Times like these, don’t be too kind to strangers.”

“Hey! Who are you calling a kid?” Edward’s eyes blazed like coals.

“Shut up!” Yulia snapped, her voice cracking like thunder.

Edward turned away at last, irritation swishing like a cat’s tail.

Yulia watched Eli’s smile, and her tight breath finally eased like a loosening bowstring. She forced a bright grin. “Whew—so you can smile. You always sound so heavy, like you’ve carried pain for ages. That’s what scares me. See? You smiled, and the shadow isn’t so scary.”

A small sting pricked his heart; Eli touched his lips as if checking a cracked mask, knowing it was an excuse yet feeling it sink like a cold pebble.

So this is how I look to others—overcast like rain on a window.

He gave a rueful smile and shook his head, as if shedding snow from a coat.

Everyone he cared for was gone, hurt, or thrown into another slice of time; to smile now felt like lifting a mountain stone with bare hands.

He bared a thin grin. He couldn’t be the same irreverent Hero he used to be; that mask had fissures like dry clay.

So he waited in quiet, dusk pooling in his chest.

When his silence fell like a curtain, Yulia’s eyes flicked to him, quick as a sparrow.

The stranger wore a visor that hid only his eyes and a brim that cut his outline like a shadowed curtain—he clearly didn’t want his face known. She chose not to pry at the veil.

“Don’t move,” she said, her tone a soft rain. “I’ll heal you.”

She reached out, her hand hovering two inches from his cheek like a butterfly poised on air.

Eli snapped back from his thoughts; he stirred his power and drew a fine wound along his own face, a red line blooming like a thorn.

If she saw through him, the house of cards would topple.

A gentle green light unfurled in Yulia’s right hand, soft as young leaves in spring, drifting toward his cheek without touching.

“Hurry up,” Edward cut in, his voice cracking like a whip.

Yulia stuck her tongue at him, a quick flick like a minnow, then let energy pour into Eli’s cheek like a warm stream.

She frowned, the crease tight as a leaf’s vein. “You’re hurt this badly and still tough it out. You’re just like Edward.”

“Tch. He’s not like me,” Edward huffed, cold steam rolling from his words.

Eli watched the girl, her palm keeping that precise two-inch boundary like a respectful border. Good—she knew where lines were drawn, and didn’t touch strangers lightly.

He stood and smiled. “Relax. It’s healed.”

“Really?” Yulia eyed him, cat-cautious under moonlight.

“Yeah. My body was specially modified by Zero, so I heal fast,” Eli said, voice steady as a calm shore.

Seeing distrust still cling like frost to their faces, he added a lie like a candle with a short wick. “My lifespan’s only a few thousand years, so Zero gave me extra power.”

“I see,” Edward said, nodding as disdain thickened like rime on glass.

“Got it,” Yulia said, half-understanding, her nod bobbing like a timid flower.

“What proof do you have you’re Father’s helper?” Edward’s tone turned like a blade catching sun. “Words are dry leaves—I’ve no reason to believe you.”

Eli smiled, reached into the cosmos like a hand into a river of stars, and drew out the special crystal Zero had left when they forged worlds.

Golden light poured from it with sovereign weight, a sunflare nesting in his palm; Edward’s doubt melted seven parts out of ten.

“This is one of Zero’s materials for creating planets,” Eli said, smile calm as a sunrise. “You can believe that, right?”

“Mm… I believe it,” Edward muttered, his mouth twisting like a bent reed, disdain still clinging.

If even the stubborn one swayed, Yulia nodded quickly, her agreement bobbing like a bright bud. “Okay. I believe you.”

“Then Father must already know we three are about to enter a stage of conflict,” Edward said, his gaze pinning Eli’s face like an arrow to a target. “If you’re sent by him, who do you help?”

This man’s mystery, that aloof steadiness—everything about him sanded Edward’s nerves like a stone in a boot.

He wanted to prick him wherever he could, a thorn to a thumb.

Whether Yulia’s presence was part of it… the answer hung in fog.

Eli straightened, half a head taller, and the height pressed Edward’s mood like a lid over hot water.

Standing next to him made Edward feel small, like a child under a tall gate.

Eli smiled to himself, a flicker like a hidden ember.

Best not to reveal myself. If he learns who I am later, he’ll chase me like a hound through briars.

“I’m joining Miss Yulia’s side.”

Both of them stared. “What?!”

“No way!” Edward barked, the words cracking like a thunderclap over stone.

“You said it yourself,” Eli replied, voice cool as shade. “Without power in hand, you’re a vassal forever. I’m sent by your father—Zero—to help her build her own strength, stone by stone.”

“You… don’t regret it,” Edward managed, anger grinding like teeth on grit, but his hands empty.

Yulia arched a brow, a fox’s grin touching her lips. “Hey, Edward—when you ambushed me, you stole the crystal I found. Care to return it?”

“Tch, foolish woman. I got it myself. Why should I give it back?” Edward rolled his eyes like loose marbles.

How did I end up liking her?

Oh. He knew—she was the only intelligent, good-looking female high life-form around, a lone star in an empty sky.

He sighed and turned, feet kicking up dust like fleeing sparrows, and ran.

Yulia could only stomp where she stood, her heel drumming the ground like a small storm.

Eli watched them with a twinge of envy, a warm echo like sunlight on water, then said, “Then, Celestial God—let’s go. To your territory. I need to help you raise a divine banner of awe.”

Yulia nodded, cautious as a deer. “Um… Mr. One, just a heads-up. When we get to my territory—please don’t mind it. I really only have a little to my name.”

“I know,” Eli said softly, his sigh weighing in his chest like balanced scales.

Well—it did stretch beyond his expectations, like a horizon drawn wider than the map.

Before them, the lowlife creatures hadn’t finished evolving; hulking shapes like prehistoric brutes, scary to the eye, stone-boned and clumsy.

He frowned. Against their level of power, these fanged beasts were paper tigers in tall grass, all roar and no claw.

Yulia scratched her head, voice sheepish as a drifting cloud. “They—keep invading my lands. I… I can’t really stop them. So I made more basic species to spread the attention of Ghoulia and Edward’s armies.”

“I understand,” Eli said, confidence rising like dawn over the sea. “With me here, it’ll get better—soon.”