A low hum filled the chamber.
A swirl of blue light spiraled open beside Razor's broken body, distorting the space with eerie calm. A rift tore through the air—clean, precise, almost silent in its arrival. From the light, a figure stepped forward.
Dainsleif.
Imposing. Silent.
His golden eye scanned the battlefield without a word.
Then—
Another step behind him and Lumine emerged.
She was unrecognizable.
Gone was the soft white fabric of the twin who once traveled with Aether—what she now wore was a flowing gown of dark violet and void-black lace, cut sharp at the edges like the petals of a poison flower.
Her boots clicked against the stone with slow, deliberate steps, the purple gown trailing behind her like a whisper of the abyss. Her eyes, once warm, were now cold moons—faintly glowing, filled with something far older than grief.
Her presence seemed to draw the light out of the room.
Razor groaned at her feet, his body barely able to move. The sound made her pause. She turned toward him slowly, as though surprised he still had breath in his lungs.
Her lips curled—not into a smile, but a smirk carved of disdain.
"Well," she said, voice like frost over steel. "Still breathing."
She knelt beside him, elegant even in cruelty.
"Disappointing."
A red laser beamed onto Lumine's back.
The Ruin Guard registered her as a threat—its core glowing hot as it reloaded.
Target locked.
Dainsleif stepped forward, already halfway through drawing his sword.
"Lumine, I got this—"
"Put it away," she said coldly, without turning.
He stopped.
She didn't flinch, didn't look back—just stood there, back straight, hands calmly at her sides.
WHSSHHHHH—BOOM!
The missiles launched. Aether, still on one knee, shielded his eyes from the blazing shockwaves.
Smoke.
Debris.
Silence.
Then—
She stepped forward.
Unscathed.
Her gown fluttered gently behind her as if the explosions had only stirred a breeze. Not a single tear, not a speck of ash on her.
The Ruin Guard paused. It fired again.
More missiles. More blasts.
Still, Lumine walked through the barrage.
Unmoved.Unafraid. Untouched.
Step by step, her presence swallowed the room. The sheer pressure of her aura made the air heavy. Even the Abyss Mage stumbled backward in awe.
Finally, she stood before the Ruin Guard.
She raised a single hand—elegant, pale, laced with dark abyssal energy—and plunged it into the machine's core with surgical precision.
The Ruin Guard spasmed.She pulled the core free, still glowing—and dropped it at her feet like garbage.
The clang echoed through the chamber.
She turned to the Abyss Mage. It immediately dropped to its knees, bowing with frantic reverence.
"My Queen! Forgive me—I was merely carrying out your command!"
Lumine raised a brow, calm and unreadable. "Was I unclear?" she asked flatly.
"N-no! Never!"
Her gaze sharpened.The Mage shut its mouth and bowed lower, trembling.
She turned away.
Aether was still down, half-buried under stone and dust, stunned not from injury—but from what he was seeing.
Lumine approached slowly.
She raised her hand—no chant, no effort—just a graceful motion through the air. Aether's wounds closed instantly. Bones reset. His breath returned.
He stood slowly, his eyes locked with hers.
"You…" he started, voice unsure.
She looked at him—no smile.
"A great calamity is coming," she said.
Aether stiffened. "What are you talking about? What—"
She tilted her head. "You buried Paimon."
The words struck harder than any missile.
His blood ran cold. "How do you know about that?"
"I know everything that matters," she said softly. "But that... was a mistake."