6/18/2000 - 12:48 PM | 17 Years into the Past
- Asura Empire Palace
Varyn's boots made a soft, deliberate sound against the stone floor as he took each step toward the woman.
The cold gleam of his sword reflected the harsh light of the room. He did not hesitate, nor did he show any sign of mercy. The weight of the emperor's orders was all that filled his mind, pushing aside any remnant of compassion.
The orders were: Kill my son. Kaiser.
He stopped just before the Lady in Waiting, Cartethyia, whose arms were tightly wrapped around the child—Kaiser. Her back was pressed against the cold stone wall, but she didn't dare move, too afraid to let go of him, too afraid to let him get hurt.
The sword hovered near her, but she looked up at Varyn, her voice trembling as she begged, "Please, Knight Varyn... he's just a child. He's harmless—he deserves to be loved, not—" Her voice broke, but she didn't stop. "He deserves to live."
Varyn's gaze was unreadable as he stared at her, a man torn between duty and conscience, but the duty won. "The emperor's orders," he said, his voice as cold as the steel in his hand. "There is no room for mercy. His life ends today, just as it was decreed."
Cartethyia shook her head, trying to steady herself, but her hands clenched tighter around Kaiser as though she could shield him from the world. "Please, Knight Varyn. You know it's wrong. He's just a child, he hasn't done anything... nothing to deserve this." She trembled, her tears falling in tiny rivulets, each one a silent plea for mercy.
"You can't just—" Her breath hitched as she pressed the child closer to her chest, as though willing him to hide in her arms, away from the blade that would cut his life short.
Varyn's face remained hard, unreadable. He stood before her, poised to strike, and yet for a brief moment, his eyes faltered. He caught sight of the vulnerability in her gaze, the raw emotion that twisted her features. The sword wavered, hovering just above the child's fragile form. He almost—almost—couldn't do it.
But then he heard the voice of the emperor.
"What is this treachery?" Noctherion's voice rang out, full of authority, carrying across the room like thunder. "You defy your loyalty to the Empress, Lady Cartethyia. You would let my son live? You would let him live while his existence is a disgrace to the bloodline?"
Cartethyia flinched at the sound of his voice, her resolve cracking. "It's… it's not like that, Your Majesty. He's just a child, a child who… who hasn't even had the chance to—"
"Silence!" Noctherion's voice sliced through her words, cold and unrelenting. "You cannot defy the will of the empire. Your position has always been as a servant to the Empress. You know your place."
Her body trembled with fear, but she stood her ground, her grip tightening around Kaiser as if she could protect him by sheer will alone. Her eyes, filled with sorrow, looked up at the emperor, though she didn't dare speak again.
Varyn's expression never softened, though a flicker of something—something fleeting—shifted in his gaze. As he stood there, sword raised, something in him was wrestling.
Empress Rosaline watched the exchange with a faint, almost amused smile. Her arms cradled Rose, her daughter in her care, a perfect picture of a motherly embrace. "My, my, Cartethyia," she said, her voice laced with a sharp, biting edge.
"It seems you still have a soft spot for children, even after your own husband left you because of your inability to bear one." She leaned in slightly, as if the words themselves were a poison meant to sting, to wound deeper than any wound.
"You've always been so attached to what you can't have, haven't you?"
The words hit Cartethyia like a slap. She staggered back, her knees weak as though the world had just dropped from beneath her. Her breath came in shallow gasps, but her arms—her arms still held Kaiser tight, her sole source of purpose.
The tears, hot and heavy, continued to fall. She whispered, her voice barely audible, "He deserves more than this. He deserves love. He deserves a chance to live."
Her heart shattered, each piece falling away with every word she spoke, but she held on to Kaiser as though he was the last tether to her humanity. As if, by holding him, she could protect him from the cruelty of the world she had found herself trapped in.
Varyn, standing there, sword held steady in the air, looked at her, then down at the child she was shielding. He should strike. He should fulfill the emperor's order. And yet… He paused.
Cartethyia's back pressed against the wall as she bent over, sobbing quietly, but she kept one arm wrapped tightly around Kaiser, the other clutching her chest as if her very soul was being torn from her. She turned her body slightly, to shield him, to protect him from what was coming.
Varyn's sword lowered just enough for the blade to touch the stone floor with a soft thud. He didn't speak, but his hesitation was clear. He was fighting something within himself, something he didn't understand or have the strength to overcome. The look in Cartethyia's eyes—her unwavering devotion—made him question everything.
Before he could make another move, the Emperor spoke again. "Varyn, do what is necessary. There is no place for weakness. She is a servant, nothing more."
----------------------------------------------------------- Part 2
Varyn raised his blade without a word. It gleamed in the dim palace chamber as he brought it down—not to kill, but to make her break down and give him up.
His sword hit her back, making a severe wound. A shallow but cruel cut tore across her arm as well. Cartethyia gasped sharply, the pain rattling through her—but she didn't cry out. She only bent forward, curling her body further over the small child in her arms.
Another slash came, lower this time. Blood streaked her back.
Still, she didn't let go.
Her voice broke from her throat, raw and trembling.
"P-please… stop…"
Her fingers clutched Kaiser tighter, as if her very bones might shield him.
"He's not a monster… he's not worthless…"
Varyn said nothing. His expression remained composed—noble, cold, distant. The sword rose again.
A third cut. Her knees buckled from the force of it, and she hit the floor with a thud, her body quivering. But even on her knees, she never loosened her embrace.
"He's… he's just a boy…!" she screamed suddenly, sobbing. "A child… helpless… he d-doesn't even know the world yet—why must he suffer for it?"
"Orders," Varyn finally replied, voice low and steady. "Given by His Majesty."
Cartethyia's eyes lifted, blood in the whites, tears pouring freely.
"He's your emperor," she said, her tone ragged. "Not your god."
Another cut. She cried out again, her shoulders lurching from the pain. The force of the strike had nearly loosened her grip, but she only held on harder, breath catching in her throat.
"Children… aren't meant to be perfect," she whimpered. "They're meant to be loved for who they are..."
Varyn looked down at her, sword still drawn, a flicker of hesitation forming.
"I—I couldn't bear children…" she confessed, voice cracking, almost a whisper. "They told me… I'd never hear a child cry in my arms… never feed one… or hold one close when it's cold…"
She wept into Kaiser's soft blanket, the child now squirming faintly yet still expressionless, unaware of the danger above him.
"I thought I'd come to terms with it… learned to live quietly in service, watching other women raise their own—but then… then I held him…"
Her arms trembled from exhaustion and pain, her dress soaked with blood at the back, but her eyes burned with something fiercer than pain.
"And for the first time, I thought… maybe this is what it means to love a child like a mother… without reason… without gain…"
Another swing—this one landed deep across her upper back. She shrieked, breath seizing in her chest.
She was breaking. Her body screamed for her to give up. But her voice—her voice kept rising, desperate, pleading.
"Please… he doesn't even cry much… he just looks around, like he's always thinking… even though he doesn't understand anything yet… he deserves to grow… to smile… to be told he is loved."
Her arms curled tighter, wrapping around Kaiser as if she could bury him inside her heart.
"I would've raised him," she sobbed. "Gifted or not. Strong or not. Even if he never looked at me like a real mother… I would've given everything… because someone has to…"
Varyn stood frozen.
"This is not my will," he said slowly, as if trying to believe it himself. "It is not my place to question the emperor's judgment."
"Then you are not a knight," Cartethyia hissed through tears, "You are a monster."
Her words struck deeper than the cuts he had inflicted.
"I'm just doing my duty."
"No… you're running from your humanity."
Silence followed. Only her ragged breathing and Kaiser's faint coos remained.
Varyn raised his sword once more.
But then—
"That's enough." Noctherion's voice cut through the chamber like thunder.
Varyn paused mid-swing, stiffening. His eyes slowly turned to the emperor.
"She's stained the floor with her defiance," Noctherion said coolly. "There is no dignity left in this act. Let it be."
Varyn lowered his blade, chest rising.
The empress, still seated beside her daughter Rose, chuckled softly.
"How pitiful," she said, stroking Rose's hair. "So desperate to be a mother… you'd rather be cut down than let go of a child you were never meant to have."
She turned her gaze, icy and smug.
"Cartethyia Everhart… my ever-loyal lady in waiting."
Cartethyia flinched as if the name itself struck her.
Her lips quivered, and tears rolled anew, not from pain—but from something far deeper.
Shame. Loss. Helplessness.
But she still held Kaiser.
Not once did she let go.
----------------------------------------------------------- Part 3
Emperor Noctherion turned his gaze toward the Empress, his voice quiet, yet weighty.
"…What do you mean by that, Rosaline?"
Empress Rosaline gave a soft, almost mocking smile as she looked down at the child in her lap—Rose, quietly sleeping in her arms.
"A few years ago," she began, brushing a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, "your loyal little servant there was married off. To Lord Monsieur, one of Asura's highest-ranking knights… and a supreme mage."
Her words were smooth, but her tone was laced with venom.
"It was an arranged marriage. Of course. She had noble roots—though not as high as mine," she added with a chuckle. "But enough to make the union look appropriate."
Noctherion's brows lifted ever so slightly. His tone remained flat, unreadable.
"So… during the years I was away. Building the Decaying Ascension Program…"
Rosaline nodded slowly. "Yes. While you were turning children into monsters… she was living a quiet, useless life. And still, even then—she failed."
She glanced down at Cartethyia, who knelt bloodied, trembling, clinging to the baby the empress refused to acknowledge.
Rosaline's eyes narrowed.
"You must understand," she said, coolly, "it's not personal. I simply cannot allow that child's face—that thing—to be shown to the world with the title of 'my son.'"
Cartethyia flinched as the words sliced sharper than any sword.
"His abilities are worse than a servant's child. I won't let someone like that bear the name of Valentine. I won't tolerate it."
Before she could continue, Noctherion raised his hand slightly.
"You forget your place, Cartethyia," he said, voice like stone. "You are a lady-in-waiting. Nothing more."
Cartethyia froze, her breath catching in her throat.
"You hold no authority. You do not speak over us," Noctherion continued, his tone dispassionate. "We are his parents. Not you. You're a nobody."
The words crushed her heart, but she didn't loosen her hold on Kaiser.
"We already have an heir," he said, glancing at the infant girl in Rosaline's arms. "Rose Valentine. She will rule Asura. Not him."
He didn't even glance at the boy.
"He has no gifts. No future. No purpose. I refuse to stand in front of the Empire and explain why my son cannot use magic… or why he is nothing."
"I do not wish to be questioned," he finished, "for someone worthless."
Cartethyia stepped back shakily, blood staining her dress and hair, her breathing uneven. Her black eyes—wide and frightened—remained fixed on the emperor.
Then the Empress spoke again, her voice colder now.
"Cartethyia," she said with fake sympathy. "Your husband left you, didn't he?"
Cartethyia's lips parted, but no sound came.
Rosaline tilted her head, smiling.
"When was it? Two years ago?"
"…Yes," Cartethyia whispered, shaking, eyes filling with tears again.
"Oh, don't look so surprised," Rosaline said smoothly. "It was bound to happen. You're infertile. A woman who can't bear children has no value to a noble. And certainly not to Lord Monsieur."
The name hit her like a blow. Cartethyia's knees almost gave out.
"He remarried, didn't he?" Rosaline asked knowingly. "Another noblewoman. Prettier. Wealthier. More… fertile."
Cartethyia shut her eyes tightly. Her hands clenched around Kaiser.
"He has a son now," Rosaline added with a cruel smile. "A strong boy. Already showing promise. Isn't that… lovely?"
Cartethyia shook her head faintly, unable to breathe.
Rosaline stepped closer.
"You? Here? Bleeding on the floor. Clutching a child who isn't yours. A boy who can't use magic. Who's hated by his own mother."
Her voice darkened.
"You were never beautiful, Cartethyia. You were never special. Just another noble girl with a noble name nobody cared about. Of course he left. Who wouldn't?"
"I… I… I d-don't…" Cartethyia stammered, her voice barely audible, lost in sobs.
Rosaline leaned in.
"You are not a mother," she whispered. "You are not a wife. You're a broken thing, clinging to a broken child, hoping it will make you feel whole."
Cartethyia bit her lip hard to stop from screaming. Blood pooled in her mouth. But she didn't speak.
Noctherion said nothing. He stood like a statue, unmoved, his golden eyes dull with disinterest.
Rosaline straightened, sighing.
"This little scene is pitiful. A woman who couldn't have a child… desperately fighting for one she was never meant to raise."
She looked at Cartethyia again.
"But I suppose that's all you'll ever be… the shadow behind someone else's child."
Cartethyia collapsed fully to her knees, still holding Kaiser. She didn't speak. She couldn't. Only the sound of her broken breathing filled the silent chamber.
The emperor didn't look at her. Neither did the empress.
Only the child in her arms stirred, reaching up with tiny fingers… brushing against her bloodied cheek, as if trying to understand why she was crying.
And still, she held him.
----------------------------------------------------------- Part 4
Then suddenly, Kaiser's tiny hand moved up again, brushing her cheek with his palm—soft, slow. He wiped her tears away, a strange gesture from a child who shouldn't understand sorrow.
Cartethyia, still trembling, tried to cover his face with her hand. She didn't want them to see him—not like this.
But he grabbed her finger.
And his grip… it was too strong. Far too strong for a newborn. Her eyes widened as her hand froze, held in place by a baby who should've barely known how to grasp.
The room stilled.
The Emperor and Empress both turned their eyes to the child in silence.
Varyn, the silent swordsman standing to the side, lowered his blade and slid it into its sheath with a faint click, now fully aware something was off. His eyes narrowed.
Then Kaiser moved.
His head lifted slowly.
And his eyes… opened.
No fear. No cries. No trembling lips or childlike confusion.
Just pure, vacant expression.
A perfect, emotionless mask.
His once light blue eyes began to shift. Slowly. From the outer rims inward—fading into a deep, devouring black. The white of his eyes was the last to go, consumed entirely in the endless abyss of void.
A breath hitched in Varyn's throat. He took a small step back without meaning to, whispering under his breath:
"…How did his eyes change…?"
Rosaline clutched Rose tighter, her smile gone, a quiet unease creeping into her voice.
"What… is he?"
Even her voice didn't carry the confidence it usually did.
Emperor Noctherion, however, didn't flinch. His gaze remained locked on Kaiser's face. Then, slowly, his lips parted.
"…He's warning us."
"What?" Rosaline snapped.
The Emperor didn't blink.
"He's giving us a silent warning," he said calmly. "That we will be next. One by one. That look in his eyes… it's not of a child. It's a message."
Kaiser's gaze slowly scanned across the room. To Rosaline. To Noctherion. Then… finally… to Varyn.
No words were spoken.
But the meaning was clear.
Cartethyia winced, crying out as another wave of pain surged through her wounds. She clutched the boy to her chest, but he didn't react. Not even to her voice. Blood dripped from her lip, staining her chin—but Kaiser's void-black eyes didn't waver.
Emperor Noctherion's gaze darkened, voice low, like someone reciting a memory from long ago.
"In ancient records… there were mentions of a forgotten omen. Void-black eyes. Not from birth. Not from bloodline. A transformation."
He looked at Rosaline.
"They called it… the 'Merciless Gaze.'"
The empress tilted her head, disturbed. "…So?"
Noctherion's tone sharpened.
"They appear only in those born to walk the path of ruin. Eyes that see no worth in mercy, in gods, or empires. Eyes of a being that will erase all that once hurt them… without mercy."
Varyn stared at the child.
Kaiser stared back.
And in that stare… there was something unnatural.
Not a threat.
A promise.
"You see it too, don't you?" Noctherion said, still watching his guard. "That child's eyes just told you… you'll be first."
Varyn's fingers twitched.
He looked away.
Then—suddenly—Rosaline laughed.
A small laugh at first, almost mocking. Then louder. She shook her head and held Rose close to her chest like a mother holding onto sanity.
"You're all insane," she scoffed. "It's a baby. A weak, magicless nothing. I've killed monsters that cried before they died—and this one? He can't even walk."
Varyn, though chuckling nervously, didn't speak. His hand remained resting near his hilt. Just in case.
"And you," Rosaline turned toward Noctherion, her tone sardonic, "you're telling me you're scared of a child? You, the emperor?"
Noctherion didn't answer.
But he didn't deny it either.
Then a silence fell again.
Only broken by Cartethyia's heavy breathing. Her bloody hands shaking as she held Kaiser close. His eyes slowly began to dim back to their soft blue… the void receding.
His face? Still expressionless.
Not peaceful.
Just blank.
Rosaline looked at Cartethyia. Then to Noctherion.
"...Maybe," she said at last, "we don't discard him."
Noctherion turned slightly.
"What?"
She smirked again.
"We'll let him be a test subject. Perfect subject to be discarded after use, once he is done his work.""
"We use him. And her. To make the Decaying Ascension Program stronger for Rose to attend once he has failed, and died from the trauma there."
She pointed at Cartethyia.
"She still loves him. That's clear. So we'll use her loyalty… to make sure he never forgets who holds the leash."
Her voice became silk, but sharp as a dagger.
"When the time comes, if that void inside him ever awakens again—we'll already have a chain around his neck."
A silence fell again.
Noctherion didn't respond. He simply stared at the child.
The boy who would one day bring ruin to them all.
But for now… he slept in the arms of the broken lady Cartethyia.
And the empire kept its secrets.
For now.
The empress then signaled Varyn to take his leave.
The chamber dimmed as Varyn turned silently toward the exit. He glanced at Cartethyia one last time. Her pale face, drenched in sweat and blood. Her breathing shallow. Her arms wrapped tightly around the child.
With a flick of his wrist, Varyn murmured a quiet healing incantation—just enough to stop the bleeding, enough to keep her alive.
Cartethyia felt the warmth spread through her, a brief relief from the tearing pain. She whispered out, "Thank you…" but he was already gone.
The Empress stepped forward slowly, heels echoing through the stone room like a slow, cruel countdown. Her eyes glinted—not with pity, but curiosity, like a child staring at a broken toy.
She crouched before Cartethyia. Her voice was smooth. Cold.
"You really don't know… do you?" she whispered, brushing aside a blood-matted lock of hair from Cartethyia's face. "What it is we're preparing him for."
Cartethyia looked up, eyes hollow but still burning with maternal resolve.
The Empress smiled cruelly.
"It's called Decaying Ascension."
Cartethyia flinched.
"A program," the Empress continued, "reserved for only the most promising children. Gifted ones. Their minds… infused with celestial, cursed, and elemental magic until their very souls warp. Their identities stripped down to fragments. Do you understand, dear Cartethyia?" Her voice dropped into a whisper, like a secret laced with poison.
"We take children. We break them. We reconstruct them. Over and over. Until their minds surpass the limits of human limits… until they can cast spells never written, create magic never imagined… until they become weapons."
Her smile widened.
"The perfect sorcerers for a perfect empire. Asura's true vanguard. Not mages… gods of destruction in flesh."
Cartethyia shook her head, trembling. "No…" she gasped, "N-No, please… that's… that's wrong… they're children—they deserve to live, to have futures, families, dreams—"
"Dreams?" the Empress scoffed, tilting her head. "You would know, wouldn't you?"
Cartethyia froze.
"You dreamed of having a child for so long," the Empress said mockingly. "And yet… you were cursed. Infertile. Worthless as a woman and still paraded as nobility."
She stood again, brushing dust from her gown. "How sad. You only got this one by accident. And yet you clutch him like he's yours."
Cartethyia went silent. Her lips quivered.
She knew it was true. Every word.
The years of praying, begging—only to be told again and again that her womb would remain barren.
The nights she cried alone.
The mornings she woke with empty arms.
Her chest heaved, but she said nothing.
Then—Kaiser shifted.
His tiny hand reached up, softly touching her cheek. Warm. Steady.
Then, with inhuman strength for a newborn, he wrapped his fingers around her index finger, holding it tightly. His eyes rose—cold, unreadable void—and locked with the Empress.
Not crying. Not afraid.
Just watching.
A silent warning.
The last one.
The Emperor, who had been silent this whole time, finally spoke. His gaze shifted to Rosaline.
"…Are you sure?" he asked. "You want to use him? He has no magic. He never will. He can't wield it and will be inefficient for the magical training."
The Empress laughed lightly, dismissing the concern with a wave of her hand.
"He doesn't need to. He'll be useful for something else."
She turned toward Cartethyia again.
"We're testing a new system—the Mind-Link Simulation."
Cartethyia's head snapped up. "What… what do you mean?" she whispered, voice cracking.
"A mental network," the Empress replied, grinning. "Where children are hooked into eternal dream loops. Infinite battlefields and scenes. Their minds flooded with artificial magic, pain, death, rebirth—again and again. No food. No rest. Just perfect, torturous repetition.
"And my little boy?" she added with a cruel sweetness, "He'll be our first long-term subject. The lamb to test how long a child can last… before their mind breaks."
Cartethyia's scream tore from her throat.
"No—! He's just a baby!"
But her voice broke.
Her body too weak.
Her arms could only tighten around him.
Kaiser's face never changed.
Still blank.
Still watching.
Still holding her finger.
Empress Rosaline stepped forward again, eyes gleaming with cruel satisfaction. She stared down at Cartethyia, whose pale, broken body still tried to protect the small boy nestled in her arms.
And then, she laughed.
Low. Sharp.
Like knives dragging against silk.
"A woman like you… clinging to a child that isn't even yours," she sneered. "Do you think bleeding and crying will make you a mother?"
She tilted her head.
"You were born useless. A noblewoman with a cursed womb. How pitiful. Your husband left you. Went to someone who could actually give him an heir. And now you're sitting here pretending like this one's yours. Pretending like fate didn't spit in your face."
The words sliced deeper than any blade.
Cartethyia didn't reply.
She couldn't.
Her lips trembled, and her chest shook as she tried to hold back the sobs rising in her throat.
Her voice came out cracked. Raw.
"I know…" she whispered, "…I know I wasn't chosen… I know my body couldn't give me what I cried for…"
She looked down at Kaiser, brushing his hair gently. "But when I hold him… when I see him look at me like this… it's the first time… it's the first time I've ever felt like I was enough… to be a mother."
Her tears slid down her cheeks as she added, "Why must children be made to suffer just because the world wants power…? Why can't they be loved for simply being alive…?"
Rosaline rolled her eyes with a smirk.
"How pathetic," she muttered under her breath. "Emotions… sentimentality… the delusions of weak women."
But in her mind, the cruelty was purpose.
"Compassion creates weakness. Love makes people hesitate. But a child forged in agony… he'll never waver."
"Kaiser will become what no mage, no god, has ever been. And if this broken woman can soften his mind just enough to keep it from shattering before it's ready—so be it. Afterall, he'll die sooner or later."
"W…what… what do you mean…?" she whispered, holding Kaiser tighter, as if her embrace could shield him from the truth.
Rosaline tilted her head, ever the queen playing with her pawn.
"The Decayed Ascension," she began sweetly, "has been running for three years now. And in all that time…"
Her smirk widened, her voice turning sharp.
"Not. A single. Child. Has lived."
Cartethyia's eyes widened. Her breath hitched. It felt like the walls of her chest collapsed inwards.
"N-No…" she muttered, shaking her head, the tears returning. "T-That's not… not possible…"
But Rosaline kept going, her words slicing like shards of glass.
"Two hundred and thirty-eight children. All above the age of five. All full of magic, potential, gifts and hopes."
"Burned alive from the inside. Brains melted from simulation overload. Hearts stopped mid-spell. They were too weak."
She shrugged.
"And now your precious little Kaiser? Just another lamb tossed into the fire."
Cartethyia gasped, a broken sob escaping her throat.
"Y-You're wrong… this is… this is madness! They were children! Innocent children!"
Rosaline chuckled.
"No one innocent survives in Asura, Cartethyia. Only the useful do."
"You call it cruel. I call it necessary. The world is built by those willing to sacrifice others to shape it." Her gaze sharpened.
"And you—who couldn't even make a child of your own—should be grateful we let you play pretend with mine."
Cartethyia sobbed again, her voice cracking beyond recognition.
"He's not a t-tool… he's not a lamb… h-he's… he's just a baby…"
She clutched Kaiser tighter as if her arms alone could hold his fate at bay.
But Rosaline's tone remained steel.
"And soon… he'll either be forged into a weapon—" She leaned in, her voice venomous.
"—or buried like the rest."
Rosaline crouched low again, her smile wicked.
"You're clinging to a fantasy, Cartethyia. That this child is yours."
Cartethyia's arms tightened instinctively.
She didn't respond.
Kaiser, without words, reached up again and gently wiped more tears from her eyes.
He didn't cry.
He didn't smile.
But he understood.
The Emperor, Noctherion, stood still, watching in silence. His gaze flicked from Rosaline to Cartethyia to the boy.
Rosaline stood and sighed, amused.
"Well, it seems he's grown fond of you." She turned and spoke with authority,
"You'll raise him, Cartethyia. Feed him. Hold him. Soothe him when he screams in those artificial nightmares we force into his mind."
Cartethyia slowly looked up, eyes wide with disbelief.
Rosaline's voice was smooth like venom. "You'll be the mother he'll never really have. Just another tool… another means of ensuring he doesn't die too early."
But Cartethyia didn't care. Her voice, still weak, still stuttering, cracked into something softer.
"My… my child…?" she breathed, almost afraid to say it.
Noctherion finally spoke again, his tone unreadable. "Are you sure, Rosaline?"
Rosaline smirked, turning toward him.
"I'm sure," she said. Then looked back down.
"From today onward, he's no child of mine. No son of Palace Valentine. No prince of Asura."
She paused.
"Let the world know this: He is yours now, Cartethyia. Yours alone."
She leaned forward with a mock whisper.
"His name… will be Kaiser Everhart."
Cartethyia gasped. Her tears flowed freely now, but her lips formed a fragile, trembling smile.
Her fingers shook as she pulled the child closer, her voice shattering with emotion.
"My… my Kaiser Everhart," she whispered. And then, gently… lovingly… She kissed him on the forehead.
"My son."
Noctherion exhaled, a faint smirk forming on his face. "If you think this is right, Empress Rosaline… I won't refuse."
He then called upon one of his loyal knights using magic and speaks with authority.
"Prepare her. Send them both to Celestine. She will accompany him into the Decayed Ascension Layer."
Rosaline gave a final cruel smile.
"As you wish."
----------------------------------------------------------- Part 5
A mother who could never bear a child of her own... yet cradled one as if he were born from her very soul.
She was Cartethyia Everhart—not by blood, not by title, but by heart alone. Her arms, though weakened by injury and sorrow, held tight the small boy who had never known warmth, never known love, and now rested quietly in her trembling embrace.
Kaiser, the child destined to be shattered and discarded, found peace in the arms of the woman the world had cast aside.
The carriage rocked gently over uneven ground, the curtains pulled to shield them from the eyes of an empire that had turned its back on them both. The land of Asura faded behind them, swallowed by dust and silence, as they made their way toward Celestine—toward the abyss that awaited them both.
Cartethyia stared down at him, her eyes swollen from the countless tears that no longer fell. She brushed aside the dark strands of his hair and pressed her lips to his forehead again and again, whispering in a voice that cracked with each word:
"My child... my Kaiser... I love you so much."
She had nothing left. No husband—he had abandoned her for another. No family—they had disowned her for her infertility, treating her like a worthless being. The world had ridiculed her, humiliated her, and left her utterly alone.
Alone... until now.
Now, she had him.
Even if the world tore at her limbs, even if Celestine's Decay layer became her hell, even if she had to crawl through blood and agony—she would not lose him. She would give everything—her dignity, her life, her heart—just to keep holding him in her arms.
Because finally, after years of being empty, she had someone to call her own.
Someone to whisper the word she'd waited her whole life to hear:
"Mama."
She was the only light in the void's creation. The mother to the child that fate itself had cursed.
Cartethyia....
The Mother of the Void.
And Asura—so cruel, so blind—had made a grave mistake by hurting her.
For in eighteen years, the quiet boy in her arms, the one marked for death and buried beneath the weight of decay, would rise.
He would return for her—not as a child, but as something far more terrifying.
He would come not alone—but alongside legends in the making.
The Queen of Curses—Celia Valestone.
The Heavenly Sorcerer—Lucas Reinhardt.
And at the center of it all…
The Self-Engineered Weapon—the man forged in pain, sharpened by love, reborn in the name she gave him—
Kaiser Everhart.
Their journey would be known not as a revenge, nor a war.
It would be known as the story written in blood, tears, and eternity.
Their Last Step.