Waves of silver light and shadow pulsed around the Lunaris Throne, the air trembling as if caught between the pull of moonlight and a deeper, crueler darkness. He floated high above the ruined capital, a lone sovereign cloaked in blood and regret, holding a scythe that pulsed with quiet hunger! His cold, moonlit gaze settled on the newly arrived trio. Their figures glowed beneath the shimmering sun of purple and gold that had bloomed in the heavens. The flames of destiny clung to them like robes, making their presence absolute and impossible to ignore! And as the words of the Primordial Light of Darkness echoed in his mind- "your true target has come…", the Lunaris Throne's eyes flickered. Just for half a second. But only for half a second. Then, that brief spark of hesitation vanished. Cold purpose returned. He was no fool. He was a Throne- a ruler of tens of millions. He had sacrificed his humanity long ago for the promise of order, survival, and strength. Right now, he was more than willing to be used. Because the enemy that stood before him… was not something he could defeat alone. Even now, even after all this slaughter… even after he had risen to the Neuronova Stage… That man had arrived out of nowhere. No beacon. No warning. No grand fluctuations of power to announce him. As if the Plane itself allowed him to be where he needed to be whenever the fuck he wanted to be there. How did he even know to be here? Why now, at this exact moment? The questions didn't matter anymore. If he was to be used… then he would make sure he was useful. Fruitful. Worth the power given to him. The one granting him this strength would surely throw him away. There was no turning back now. The Lunaris Throne's eyes burned with a brutal, cold light. They locked onto Achilles for just a breath. Nyxaria Moonveil Lunaris. His lips curled as he regarded her, the scythe in his hand humming lowly with each word. "…To my daughter," he said, his voice carrying clear across the skies, "I have to apologize." "I'm sorry I didn't break your limbs completely when you were young. Perhaps then you'd have learned how to walk with pain instead of pity." Nyxaria's body tensed, but the Lunaris Throne continued, calm as falling ash. "I'm sorry the sub-zero training chambers didn't toughen your instincts like they should have. I thought nearly freezing to death would help you adapt." "And I'm sorry, truly sorry, that I didn't finish the suffocation experiments. You were so close to awakening something useful." He chuckled, cruel and cold. "Ah. But most of all…" "I'm sorry I didn't put you out of your misery years ago. The weakest of my worthless progeny." "And now here you float, a whore wearing another man's power" Nyxaria clenched her jaw, her fingernails digging into her palm. Her eyes carried immense hatred as she looked at this man! He was no father. He was not even human! "That's enough," she said through gritted teeth, her voice sharp as the sea. "You sadistic, depraved excuse of a human." The Lunaris Throne gave her a small nod. Nonchalant. As if she'd only proven a point. Then, his eyes slid to Achilles and the woman standing beside him. Rose's presence burned quietly, but his focus was on the one who stood between them all. The man who had become fear. The Lunaris Throne laughed once. Hollow. Fractured. "I never thought," he said, "that a little boy who wasn't even a proper human a few weeks ago would be the one to make me feel this. I dug up all the information I could about you and still could not believe it. What the fuck kind of steroids did you take? Do you want to share some with the rest of us? Because this is all fucking absurd!" His grip tightened on the Scythe, and the air around it crackled. "This… this is all your fault." His eyes widened, mad light flashing in their depths. "This moment. This carnage. This power. Everything- it's because of you! Because you didn't stop when you could have. Because you pushed me!" "Do you understand? Do you?!" Darkness gathered- slow, deliberate. It formed waves of lightless silver that wrapped around the blade, eating sound, light, and time. The Primordial Light of Darkness said nothing now. Its voice had gone quiet, watching from the shadows. Letting the story unfold. Letting the pain… ripen. The Lunaris Throne stared at the figure in the skies. Achilles had not moved. He had not reacted in the slightest to the venomous tirade, nor to the boiling madness that spilled from his mouth. Only those purple-gold eyes looked down, calm and still, as if the world bent neatly under their weight. As if he, the Throne of the Lunaris Dynasty, was already accounted for. The pressure in his chest twisted like a knife. He wanted to rip that calm away. He wanted to take that control, and crush it beneath his heel. He wanted to be free. Free from the weight of that gaze. Free from the terror of what Achilles might do. Free from the waiting. The silence. The slow, dreadful crawl toward death. His arms trembled as he raised the Scythe. The roar tore through the skies. A blinding light flared. The Lunaris Throne spun the Scythe once, twice, and let loose a wave of power. From its edge, an attack bloomed into the sky like a rising star. A crescent moon, solid and radiant, forged of stellar silver. Its edges gleamed with Primordial Energy. Its core surged with Evolutius might. But the most terrifying part… The light that wrapped around the moon was neither. It was something else. That half-moon hung for just a breath… Then crashed downward toward Achilles. And Achilles finally frowned. The light in his eyes dimmed for a fraction of a second as his Destiny Perception whispered. And still, he did not move as he simply stared ahead. Because whatever energy cloaked this moon…it was not of this world!