In the thirty-six years of Lang's life, not once had he ever entertained the thought that he could kill a god.
Yet here he was, leaning back against the carved rest of a bed in Twilight's elegantly furnished guest room, listening as Liliana taught him the fundamentals of the universe—knowledge that should only be known after ascension.
She was dragging him into a deep rabbit hole, and the number of existential crises he'd suffered had left him numb.
At first, he had only listened to comfort Zaruki, who refused to let go of his hand. But the more Liliana spoke, the more hope ignited in his chest, until it burned.
It was possible.
To live without destiny and fate dictating his every breath.
To be with Zaruki in every lifetime, until their souls grew too old to exist.
