Seeing the woman in white wear that shameless grin, like a fox that knew the trap would spring, Aphelia knew she’d expected this all along. Yet the woman had never warned her, and had let a now-powerless Aphelia face the Sigdrifa of that era head-on.

Shock hit first, cold as rain on hot stone. Under that single glance from Sigdrifa, Aphelia—fallen to a mortal shell—had stood her ground before a goddess beyond True Gods, and hadn’t even been singed. That alone felt like a miracle drawn from thunderclouds.

“So, Aphelia, you’ve realized it too, haven’t you? It wasn’t that she couldn’t strike you. That one glance isn’t something a mortal can take. A god’s gaze, and you turn to ash. That’s not a joke.”

The retort cut like a north wind. Aphelia fell silent. She dodged the point and looked to the woman in white instead.

“Then… what comes next?”

“What comes next?”

The woman in white chuckled, a lantern flicker in dusk. She waved her hand. The visions of the past snuffed out like embers, and the fatigue on her face leaked through like ink.

“What comes next is what the old tales said. A greater calamity fell. The Starborn Remnants rebelled. Two goddesses joined hands again. They returned to the Brynhildr they once were, and with boundless might, they reignited the war against the Eldritch Gods across the earth. Civilization collapsed again, and the world crumbled into what you see now.”

“The Valkyrie Legion that once marched under Brynhildr suffered wound after wound in that war. They lost their commander. They slipped into the shadows of this world, nursing their strength, waiting for the day she returned.”

“I, as the will of the world, accepted her power. I sheltered the humans who survived that great war. I took several Valkyries under my wing, so they could grow quickly under my protection.”

“And this Abyss is the last line Brynhildr left to humankind. It was never a den for monsters, cough… cough…”

She smiled as if to keep speaking, but a rough cough tore through her like a rip in silk. Aphelia moved to support her, and the woman pushed her away with a palm like wind.

“Hey… Aphelia, forgive my selfishness…”

The bitter smile carried a steel resolve, like frost under morning sun. Aphelia felt it like a blade sheathed in warmth.

In an instant, the world around them became an endless sea of fire, horizon to horizon a red tide. Flames rose around them, a field of suns blooming, yet not a lick touched Aphelia. Mortal as she was, her Aether-sight flared wide; the sight struck her like lightning to the mind.

“W-what is this? Why is my body… so hot—aaah!”

The scream broke out raw. Heat surged from within, a furnace roaring in her bones, as if it would reduce her to cinders from the inside out.

The flames around her didn’t burn her skin, yet her shell thrummed with unrest. She knew that agitation; the pain matched what the Crimson Fire had brought when it reforged her body.

Through her eyes, she didn’t see pure flame. She saw countless things shaped like Aether, yet with no Aether’s form at all. Every inch of space brimmed with that power. When she gathered herself, even her own body was turning, slowly, into those flames.

She’d once been peeled and remade, tendon by tendon, bone by bone. That memory steadied her. She didn’t break. Still, watching your own body get stripped away is no gentle rain; it’s a knife-edge gale.

“Aphelia, don’t tense up~ cough… I won’t rob you of your body. But you need to steady it yourself. If you can’t, then forget taking your power back.”

The woman in white looked utterly at ease, a lotus at the heart of the blaze. Her body, though, had begun to burn—coming apart grain by grain—feeding the fire-sea. She seemed unaware. Relief softened her features like evening light.

“Think back. Remember how it felt the first time you touched power.”

Her words carried a quiet magic, a current pulling Aphelia through the burn. Memories rose from the deep like stars surfacing. Not from childhood—older than that. A strange memory wedged deep in the mind, older than dust.

The heat eased. The fire was no longer pain but breath. An emptiness in her flesh filled with something steady, something vast and balanced, like a mountain under sky.

“Yeah… yes, that’s it—cough, cough. Follow that memory, Aphelia. The rest… I’m leaving to you…”

Guided by that gentle lure, Aphelia slipped free of the frenzy. Inspiration caught like a spark in dry pine. She crossed her legs, sat as if asleep, and let the fire-sea wrap around her like a red cloak.

“Ah… who would’ve thought I’d see this day…”

In the endless blaze, the woman in white let out a breath and a wan smile. She watched her body crumble, and the light in her eyes dimmed like a star going out.

She looked at Aphelia, serene as a monk in meditation, and her smile turned to release. She pushed her breaking body upright and walked toward Aphelia, step by cracking step.

With each step, she shattered further. Crimson Flame climbed her frame like ivy. She didn’t flinch. Calm as a still lake, she reached Aphelia and pulled her into an embrace.

“From here on, I’m leaving this world to you, Aphelia…”

Crimson Flame rose. Holding Aphelia, the woman in white turned into a single strand of flame. It settled on Aphelia’s hair, a quiet ember that kept burning.

The world was born in fire.

Aether began as formless and wild, a storm no hand could grasp. If the world rose from flame, perhaps it’s because Aether’s first shape was fire.

In the beginning, all was void. The world was an endless fire-sea—silent burning, no breath of life. Pure Aether flooded heaven and earth. Aside from the primeval flame, there were no other ideas, no other words.

Until one day, from the blaze, the first life on this world was born.

Call it fate. Call it a miracle.

Bearing the will of the planet, a life awakened within the endless fire-sea. She was this planet. She was this world’s sovereign. Call it he, call it she; such a being moved alone in the flames and measured time by embers.

Endless time granted power, but it also hollowed the heart, like wind scouring a canyon. Even with wisdom gifted by the planet’s will, the being couldn’t name that emptiness or find its source.

So she made her first true choice since her birth.

If I can’t untangle this alone, then I’ll create a companion…

“Miss Hrok, is… is Aphelia…?”

Lilo’s voice trembled like a thin string. She couldn’t believe the sight before her eyes.

Aphelia, once swaddled in bandages, had slipped free of the stone. Those “bandages” turned to drifting ash. What showed beneath wasn’t a charred ruin. It was Crimson Flame, alive and nimble as if it had a heartbeat.

Lilo carried red dragon blood; any Aether tied to fire rang in her bones like a bell. This time, though, she couldn’t see through the Crimson Flame at all. It felt of the same source as her fire, yet it towered above it like a mountain over a torch.

“Heh… heh… hahahaha! The plan worked. She’s awakened. You’ll see for yourself in a moment!”

Hrok knew that fire’s origin. The instant it bloomed, tears rimmed her eyes like dew. She lurched forward, so moved she didn’t notice she’d stepped into the fire’s domain.

The Crimson Flame, Aether-like yet beyond Aether, didn’t harm her. It only pushed her gently out of its boundary, then flowed back to Aphelia’s side like a tide returning to shore.

Hrok collapsed to her knees and sobbed, speechless. Seeing her state, Lilo knew questions were useless. She dared not move. One stir might draw the Crimson Flame’s bite.

There was a reason. From the depths of those flames pulsed a dread that felt like death’s shadow passing over a field.

Aphelia floated in midair, a wavering silhouette, like she’d been flayed and hollowed again. But this time, Lilo didn’t feel that bone-deep weakness. The aura pouring off Aphelia surged like spring flood. It felt like her prime.

“Aphelia, don’t you dare fall…”

Lilo clenched her fists, eyes fixed on the figure wrapped in Crimson Flame, and whispered like a prayer.

Within the sea of fire in her mind, Aphelia flushed red. Sweat beaded and ran. Her trembling showed how bad it was, and even sitting cross-legged, her body started to come apart, flake by glowing flake.

Heat, prickling, a pain beyond words coursed through her. It ran her veins like molten metal. Each time it reached her heart, a force crashed up into her skull, a wave so strong it nearly broke her mind.

More than once, she nearly lost it. Flame crawled up to her shoulder, and she shoved it down with sheer will, like holding a door against a storm.

What the woman in white had done seemed to make the trial harsher. Her breath grew ragged. The unraveling sped up. Even so, Aphelia clung to a last thread of self and fought through the endless blaze.

“Aphelia…”

Maybe it was a hallucination. She thought she heard a soft call from the fire-sea itself.

This was the cliff edge; she didn’t dare let her focus slip. She tried to ignore it. The voice came again, closer this time, like footsteps in snow.

“Who… who’s there?!”

“Aphelia… is it power you seek?”