Chapter Five: A Feud Entangled for Millennia

“I get the gist. But some things, I need to chew on myself.” Across Edward’s eyes, a slow spark of wisdom kindled like dawn.

He wore a faint smile and holstered his hostility toward Eli; the corner of his mouth hooked like a thin blade. “Didn’t expect someone who loves this universe as I do.”

“Mm?” Eli blinked, dazed for a beat, like a bird pausing mid-flight.

Not the time to overthink. He pulled down his hood, letting glossy long hair spill like a waterfall.

He let his face shift further feminine, like clay warmed by hands.

Good thing he wasn’t that masculine to begin with. (Ahem. Crossdressing—something you do like changing masks.)

He took off the butterfly mask, showing a pretty face with a chill like frost.

Edward froze, his mouth twitching; he sprang from the chair and examined him like a startled deer.

Eli’s body shrank at the same time, height and frame folding into a flat-chested woman, like paper creased neat.

Three seized the chance to add drama. He stiffened his face, stern as a judge. “One? Spent too much power to hold the form? Hah. Still flat as a board.”

Eli lifted his gaze at Three, eyes full of ice and winter wind.

He said nothing, just looked, like a blade sheathed but cold.

Three felt his hair bristle like a hedgehog. He sent a thought, a whisper like smoke. “I’m playing along. Easy.”

To Edward and Yulia, it was simply a girl angered by rude words, like a storm brewing in a teacup.

In Edward’s eyes, the look Eli gave Three even held a hint of flirt, like foxfire.

Edward’s mind went crooked: maybe they were that kind of pair, like vines twined.

He glanced at Yulia still spacing out, and warmth rose like a hearth; he breathed out, relieved.

Seems he wasn’t the type to love every face; under heaven, there was one star he fixed on, and it was Yulia.

Thinking that, he smiled to himself, light as a feather.

It helped too that the helper “One” was a woman; his guard loosened like a drawn bow slackening.

Three was male, and looked the leader; so the one closest to Yulia should be the woman, like a shield at the front.

The other helpers probably wouldn’t get near her; he could rest easier—probably—like a man on thin ice convincing himself it’s spring.

“How are you? Are you alright?” Yulia stepped up, concern pouring like warm rain to check on Eli.

Eli shook his head. He turned like a compass needle toward Edward. “You understood what I said, yes?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry.” Edward shook his head with a smile like sunlight. “Pity you won’t live long. With you, guarding this universe would be easy.”

“So you know far more than me.” Eli’s cool gaze settled on him like snow.

“I showed my true face, like unsealing a letter. Shouldn’t you share some news?”

“True. But Miss One, know this: sometimes knowing too much burns you, like staring at the sun.”

“And if I don’t know, what if I wreck your plan, like a bull in a shrine?”

Edward’s mouth curled with a playful smile, like a cat. “Miss One, I did underestimate you.”

“Oh?” Eli smiled at him, a crescent like a new moon. “How so?”

“Spare me the flattery. I can’t tell you much. If I do, I ruin my plan,” Edward said, wagging a finger like a metronome.

“Enough talk. Take good care of Yulia for me. I’ll go erase Ghoulia,” Edward said as he stood, patting imaginary dust like ash.

Eli watched him in silence, eyes deep as a well.

“I’ll take Five and Nine back. As for Two—you’ll find my hideout anyway. Send him then,” Edward added. He held Yulia’s gaze a heartbeat, then left like a gust.

Yulia, from start to finish, wore a dazed, cute look, like a doe in first snow.

Eli’s mood rippled, like a stone breaking a pond. Based on Abyss’s future, his faith was strong; but the man now wasn’t Abyss—could he leave no gaps?

“One. No tempering, no growth,” Three said, smiling, and patted Eli’s shoulder like knocking dust off armor.

Eli lowered his head a touch, like a reed in wind. Right—he’d meddled too much.

Three snatched the butterfly mask and, to Eli’s surprise, set it back on; he also pulled up the hood, then whistled, a note like a bird. “Alright. Truth-time’s over. Hide that face.”

Eli frowned at him, brows knitting like black silk. Three just grinned the whole time, a fox under the moon.

Yulia stepped up. “Mister Three said you’re tired. Go rest,” she said, voice soft as moss.

Eli nodded and left, steps light like fallen leaves.

Three stayed beside Yulia. After she saluted and left, he smiled. “As expected of a Celestial God. That creativity is something else—like spring breaking stone. If I stay long enough... I might... heh, forget it. No big deal.”

In the stretch that followed, the other universe vanished like a receding tide; no anomalous beings appeared.

Seeing that, Eli slowly set his heart down, like placing a cup.

Not long after, in a clash between Yulia’s Angels and Edward’s Fiends, they broke a seal like old ice and freed an ancestral ground.

There, they saw carvings from an ancient age, lines like rivers on stone.

They told the story of One through Nine.

Only then did Edward fully believe Eli’s words, like a lock clicking.

Those carvings carried a scent like his own; no one could mimic that wind.

He accepted that One to Nine were sent by his father to aid him, like stars assigned to a voyage.

“Miss One. Is it normal for us to keep fighting like this?” Yulia sat on a cliff like a knife-edge, worry on her face, watching Angels mend below.

“The universe needs layers and yin-yang,” Eli said, sketching a simple cosmos in air like chalk on night. “Without that, no species endures.”

“This holy war forges the laws of the universe. You should feel the universe’s call, right? Like a tide touching shore?”

“Mm... Lately a strange, mighty force keeps connecting to my mind,” Yulia said, brows furrowed like drawn bows. “But I’m a little scared.”

“Oh? Scared of what?” His question fell like a pebble.

“It feels... wrong. It looks like a glorious future, but for us the ending feels unfair,” Yulia said, worry like rain.

“You overthink it,” Eli said after a pause, voice slow as falling snow.

Seems the first to awaken always has an edge, like the first bird catching light.

At least the intuition is true. But once you take the office, it will fade like mist.

Edward’s work grew ever more rigorous; centuries of strife sanded off his youth, leaving a smile like a player holding the board.

As Eli knew, he beat Yulia head-on, then sent troops to drive back Ghoulia, like thunder rolling twice.

A war god in all but name, blazing like a spear.

Yulia created Angels to guard her lands and fight off foes, like a gardener raising thorns and roses.

With Eli and others, she shaped prototypes of life, waiting for species to evolve, like clay awaiting breath.

Ghoulia remained faint, presence thin as smoke. His elites numbered only two or three cats.

Aside from hordes of nameless fodder from who-knows-where, noisy as locusts, he had little special.

“Yulia, how old are you this year?” Eli remembered something and asked, words falling like beads.

Yulia touched her head and thought. “About eight hundred. Why?”

“Nothing. Just thinking of gifts for when you hit nine hundred or a thousand,” Eli said, casual as a breeze.

“Wow, Miss One, you’re so thoughtful,” Yulia said, eyes lighting like stars.

“Hey, can you two stop chatting? These little Angels are at their limit. Help!” Three braced a four-winged loli Celestial God, face bitter as unripe fruit.

Yulia saw and flew down at once, a swan arrowing into water.

Eli alone remained on the height, a lone pine on a ridge.

He lifted his head and looked at the boundless universe, a dark sea, and sighed.

“Only a hundred years left? So fast... Soon it’ll be just me, won’t it?”

He stretched out a hand, as if to catch something in the air, like snowflakes, then let it fall.

His eyes showed deep desolation, like an empty shore. “Edlyn... which time-slice holds you?”

As he stood dazed, Three drifted over, a wine gourd in hand like a small moon.

He took a slow pull and grinned. “What is it, main body? Feeling spring heat?”

Eli kept a stony face, cold as slate.

“That scowl’s been on you forever. Ease it. Be like me—free as wind,” he said, drinking again like a river swallow.

“Why aren’t you helping your little Angel? Why come to me?” Eli turned to him, impatience like sparks.

“Tsk. Liliya’s being healed by her Celestial God. A stinky man like me shouldn’t butt in,” Three said, grin sly as a fox.

Eli turned fully and studied him. “Say it. What’s the matter?” His voice cut like a line.

“Knew you’d notice.” Three shrugged and plopped down on the ground, bold as a drunk under stars, smiling.

“I’m not so dull I can’t feel killing intent walking up to my face,” Eli said, tone flat as iron.

“Heh.” Three laughed helplessly and shrugged, like dropping a cloak.

“Main body, you gave me all your emotions. You knew a Celestial God’s creativity would make me grow on my own. What are you running from?”

He looked at the star-salted sky and smiled, thin as smoke.

“You’ve been dodging too long.” He turned to Eli. “Centuries. Soon I won’t be just a clone,” he said, words like flint.

Eli scanned him, a flicker of surprise like a spark.

“You’re afraid a century of pain will burst at once and you won’t bear it?” Three’s tone sharpened like ice.

“I... didn’t. I already took back my feelings, like sweeping a floor.”

“Oh? Then tell me this. Why do I have anything besides joy? Where did my anger come from? My fear?” His questions drummed like rain.

Three stood; a chill ran through him like winter water.

“You birthed your own soul long ago. You’re lying to yourself,” Eli said, voice cold as a blade.