Deep in a mountain range, a vast plaza from millennia ago lay like a stone lake under pine-shadow. Around it, police and soldiers formed an iron ring that held back any storm.

Inside the plaza, nearly a thousand stood like dark statues in rainlight. Their faces were clouded, and strange power shimmered like heat over sand.

“The basic strategy’s set,” the Abyss—Edward—clapped the rolled plans, his voice steady as winter steel.

“Isn’t this a cliff’s edge?” the Giant Squid tapped a spot on the map, eyes like deep tide. “What if he senses this shift ahead of time?”

Eli laid a hand on the Giant Squid’s shoulder, a calm weight like an anchor. “Relax. I’m here. I’ll draw him to that point.”

The Giant Squid dipped his head, a bow like a cresting wave. “Thank you, Hero. May the great spirit of the sea bless you.”

He withdrew to the side like a retreating tide, head lowered, and let silence pool around him.

Eli gave him a gentle smile, warm as morning sun through mist, and urged him to stand firm.

Yulia glanced his way and sighed, breath like a thin wind. “He was dealt a hard fate. The Seafolk lost everything but a hundred top survivors. Their races regressed like coral bleaching. As Sea Emperor, he watches his children fade into small species. It hurts.”

“If we beat Zero, can the Seafolk return?” Elavis, queen of the elves, frowned, worry hanging like frost.

Icarina stepped forward and laced fingers with Elavis, her touch like riverlight. “No. The old Seafolk died with time’s erosion. The sea now belongs to the new Seafolk. That’s why the Giant Squid grieves.”

Elavis nodded and slipped behind her elder sister, like a doe into shade.

Birand stepped up and scanned the thousand, his gaze a stormfront. “Friends once, enemies later. After wave upon wave of anomalies, we stand on one ridge again. This is our final battle, win or lose. Do you understand?”

“With Zero awake, our world keeps reshaping, like city glass overtaking forest. Technology remade our sky. For your children to grow in peace, for the dead taken by Zero, we’ll fight to the last drop like red rain!”

“We’re orphans of a bygone age. Our power’s no longer needed, like old oaks in steel fields. So let us do one last thing well. Let’s do what we still can.”

A low roar rolled through them, like thunder slipping across hills.

Later, by the fire, Eli hooked an arm around Birand’s neck with a grin, sparks dancing in his eyes. “Damn, you’re a troll preaching justice? So damn out of character.”

“They don’t get nuance,” Birand chuckled, flame painting his face like copper. “A few words to cut the gloom helps. You, though—main force. Not going to hear how the Abyss deploys?”

Birand offered a beer, glass sweating like dew.

Eli twisted the cap off with a soft click, the whoosh like a night breeze. He stared into the distance, where dark pines stood like spears. “Nah. That’s not my part. Won’t help me. Just tell me where to go when it’s time. Anyway—how are you and Icarina? And that other world…”

Birand’s smile tilted, weary as old bark. “Years slipped by. My parents were just ordinary folk. That world’s magic, like ours, is pressed under tech and neon. I had no way to stretch their years. When their time ran out, I came back.”

He rubbed his lips, laughing like rain on tiles. “Icarina cried for ages. For my parents’ passing, for her own return to life. I talked till my mouth went numb.”

Eli barked a laugh and took a swig, the taste bitter as night herbs. “That wild?”

“Absolutely.” Birand waved, smoke looping like ink. “You don’t know how much trouble she was. In that world she turned into a kid. She tugged me east and west, chasing any glow. Our country’s a sea of faces—you know that. After a few crowds like a human tide, she refused to go out. Became a shut-in worse than us.”

Eli smirked, his voice a warm ember. “Mine were similar. I showed them the scenery and culture. They kept their noses up like frost. Took them to eat something great, though—instant silence.”

They laughed together, twin faces in firelight like mirrored moons, their voices ringing like bells.

Behind them, two girls watched with smiles like silk hiding knives, the air cold as river steel.

Edlyn moved first. She sprang up like a white fox and pounced onto Eli’s head, straddling his neck. She kneaded his face with gleeful cruelty, like snow packing tight. “Talking smack about me, huh?”

“Wife, I was wrong! Ah—don’t hit the face!”

Across the way, Icarina’s eyes softened like willow shade as she watched Birand.

Birand wiped sweat, a shimmer like rain on stone, and looked up at the churning sky. “Today… nice weather. The moon’s very round.”

The clouds were iron wool and the wind howled like wolves. Rain hung ready on the brink.

Icarina went quiet, her silence deep as still water.

“Hey… honey—don’t… don’t hit the face…”

Thud! His skull met bark with a dull knock, like a drum in fog.

Edward turned, gave them a glance and a small smile, thin as crescent moonlight. He hoped their attempt would find the right tide.

Yulia came to stand by him, her steps light as petals. “What is it?”

Edward faced her and let a faint smile rise, soft as dawn. “Nothing. Life’s a little absurd, like a carnival in winter. Still—thank heaven—I found you.”

“Come on. We’re old and married, and you still say that? So embarrassing.” Yulia blushed, teeth catching her lip like a cherry bite.

Edward laughed, warm as a hearth. “Yulia, I’m glad I’m not the lonely guardian of the cosmos. I have you, our daughter… and our son-in-law. We guard our home.”

The Giant Squid watched the pairs, envy flickering like green waves. He pressed it down like sinking ballast.

He was ready. After vengeance for the Seafolk, his day to disperse would come like sea foam dissolving in dawn.

He would finally seek his own harbor and love, like a ship finding a quiet bay. He closed his eyes, and tears fell slow as rain.

Time flowed like a river, and three years slipped past.

That day, Liqianyu kept her head down in the Sword World, then, per Yiyi’s words, took a post at a school, a history teacher on the surface like parchment under glass.

Angela wouldn’t be home until afternoon, her schedule drifting like clouds.

Alice went out with friends, their laughter weaving like kites in sky. The house held only Edlyn, just back from the hospital, quiet as a lamp in rain.

Edlyn slumped on the sofa, report in hand trembling like a leaf. Her head tilted, and though she’d sensed a flicker, the real news struck and joy burst like spring buds.

She’d thought a Demon King and a human were fated to be barren, two stones in sand. Now a tune rose in her throat like a sparrow’s trill.

She didn’t hop like a crazy rabbit anymore. She steadied herself with the wall like a vine and climbed upstairs to rest, waiting for that man to return like the sun to eaves.

Before long, Eli came home with Waynes, elder of the Elf Race, and other high ranks, their talk easy as flowing wine.

Edlyn bounded down, happiness bright as lantern light, clutching the report. Seeing the crowd, she hid the paper behind her like a secret letter and forced a smile at the elves, stiff as frost. “Welcome.”

Waynes dipped his chin, a nod like a dropped pebble. He thought the Hero had already made the Demon King into a good wife, an odd star in a calm sky.

Eli frowned, the crease a shadow under torchlight. He sensed Edlyn’s flutter like a bird. “Elder, I need a private word with Edlyn. Please come another day.”

Waynes smiled, eyes like old oak rings. “I understand.” He waved, and the elves flowed out like a silver stream.

Eli vaulted to her side, light as wind over grass. He drew her into his arms and stroked her white hair, touch soft as silk. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Guess how long since my monthly visitor,” Edlyn blinked, mischief like fireflies at dusk.

“Visitor? Uh… Edward came by recently.” Eli blinked, mind fogging like mist.

“Not that ‘visitor.’” Edlyn flushed and twisted his waist, a sharp pinch like a crab’s nip.

Eli hissed and faked great pain, then the dawn cracked across his face. “You mean—!”

Edlyn lifted her head, eyes curious as river stones. Shy, she pushed the report into his hands, paper crisp as wings.

He held her and went downstairs, the steps counting like beads. He sat on the sofa, planted her on his lap like a cat in sunlight, and read with breath steady as a lake.

A moment later, he set it down, stunned as a deer in snow, then joy surged like a flood. “You mean—no, the report says—!”

“Mhm.” Edlyn nodded, voice tiny as a mosquito’s hum.

“Finally… finally!” Eli grinned, delight blazing like a bonfire. He stood and spun with her in his arms, a whirl like dancing maple leaves.

“Hey, easy… don’t drop us. I’ll see who you cry to,” Edlyn yelped, hands tapping his chest like a drum.

He stopped and sat again, the sofa a soft shore. He settled her on his thighs, her weight warm as bread, and held her close. One hand kneaded her waist like kneading dough. One hand stroked her belly, gentle as a breeze. “Thank you, Edlyn.”

Edlyn tilted her head, her mismatched eyes glinting like twin gems, and met his gaze like moon to sea.

Eli’s right eye couldn’t see, a dark window. But the feeling he hid behind joy shone like a hidden lantern, and Edlyn lowered her head, shy as a fawn, then opened her mouth and gave him a gentle bite, playful as a cherry nip.

Eli froze, memory rippling like shadows under water. The vision Birand had shown him millennia ago had shifted, a bird’s flight changed by wind.

He tightened his embrace, arms firm as iron vines, and a confident smile rose like sunrise. “Looks like the future isn’t fixed. Zero might not be invincible.”