Noctis's translucent wings twitched in silent excitent, the thought of Hespera’s hand on her head, fingers threading through her hair, drawing a bright, fluttery warmth through her spectral chest.
"Good girl, Noctis," she whispered, practicing how Hespera would say it.
Her ethereal form practically vibrated in excitent.
With a final glance toward the untouched vault, she folded herself into the void, vanishing without a single soul in the Vatican even realizing she had been there.
Mistress was going to be so proud.
~☆~
The massive gates of the Seraphic Sanctum swung open on their own.
The seven-winged guards lining the radiant path stood perfectly still, not daring to et Hespera’s gaze as she strolled past them with Nyx and Kuroka flanking her like dark twin stars. Gabriel cheerfully floated ahead, humming like this was just another garden stroll.
Ophis trailed quietly behind them, arms folded, her empty stare as unreadable as ever.
The throne at the far end shimred with gold and pure, woven light.
And seated upon it, as radiant as the sun itself—
Michael. He was the Chief Seraph. Heaven’s Supre Commander. And at the mont… visibly unnerved.
His golden gaze widened slightly in surprise, scanning every inch of Hespera as she crossed the threshold.
She had twenty-four wings. An aura twice as dense as the last ti they t. Her eyes—no longer simply mismatched—but carved with the sigils of Nihility and Chaos themselves.
She wasn’t the sa being they had called big sister. Even after Azazel’s experints, she still held so resemblance to the old Hespera. Sure, her hair had added colors and her eyes were no longer that beautiful shade of gold, but she still looked like their big sister that would play hide-any-go-seek as cherubs.”
But now... now she had evolved.
Michael’s jaw tightened, trying to mask the sadness this change caused.
"…Big Sister Eveningstar."
He stood, descending the steps of his throne with slow, deliberate grace.
His voice was steady, but there was a sadness beneath it that only another ancient could sense.
"You’ve changed."
Hespera stopped a few paces short of him, tilting her head with a smirk.
"I die once… and suddenly you all act like I’m a new woman."
Nyx leaned toward Kuroka and Ophis and whispered in amusent, "Technically, she is."
Kuroka purred softly in agreent.
Ophis just nodded.
Michael raised a hand, gesturing for the guards to stand down, though his eyes never left Hespera.
"What brings the pleasure of your return ho? The last ti you were here, it felt like that you wished to not return again. Is there a problem back on earth you need my assistance in?"
Hespera didn’t answer right away.
She stood there, silent, her expression unreadable for a long mont as her gaze road the radiant throne room. The last ti she had stood here… she’d been angry. That they would dare try to take her pray from her. Azazel was hers to play with. If her little siblings wish to correct their wrongs to her, then they could do it so other way. 'Hmm, I still have little Luci's soul in my dinsional space. I really should find a way to make use of it.'
Her eyes drifted back to Michael, reading every flicker of restraint in his stance. She could feel the old weight in his voice—the “brother” trying to reach the “sister” he thought he’d lost.
"Ho," she echoed softly, almost to herself.
She took a slow breath… then gave a faint, bittersweet smile.
"I’m not here as your sister, Michael."
His golden wings shifted, tension tightening his posture. "Then why—?"
Her hand rose, stopping him mid-sentence. "I’m here as the Daughter of Chaos."
The temperature dropped slightly.
Even the light seed to dim, recoiling from the title like it carried the weight of an unspoken law.
Hespera let her fingers fall back to her side and took a step closer, closing the gap until she stood within reach of him.
"There are things in the Vatican vault… artifacts… seeds of ruin and salvation. I’m here to ask to take them."
Michael’s breath caught, just for a mont.
Of course he knew.
He always knew what lay beneath the sanctified walls of the Vatican.
He narrowed his gaze slightly, masking the pain with discipline.
"And what will you do with them?" he asked quietly.
Her smile faded.
"Save the World Tree," she replied, "an old friend of mine had suffered for quite so ti trying to hold off the rot and now that I gave her the much needed sleeped she was due, her son is now currently doing the sa. I promised to heal the tree. And I try not to break promises."
Michael’s throat bobbed slightly, the edges of his control fraying just a fraction.
A mory flickered—bright wings chasing smaller ones through the outer rings of the firmant, cherub laughter ringing like wind chis in the dawn of creation. He had believed she was gone forever after the Fall. After what Azazel had done.
And now she stood before him again—not broken, not chained—but as sothing… other.
Yet her words… they were still hers.
That small, stubborn light beneath all the chaos.
He lowered his gaze, not in defeat, but in weary understanding.
"And what happens after that, Hespera?" His voice cracked faintly—not with fear, but with sothing almost loneso.
"Will you vanish again? Will you return to the Gap… or let us see you again as more than just the storm waiting to tear this world apart?"
Gabriel held her breath. Even Nyx tilted her head slightly, surprised by the softness in the question.
Hespera considered him for a long, long mont.
Then—
She took another step forward, closed the distance entirely, and leaned in just enough that only he could hear her words. But it wasn’t the answer to his question, but a shocking (to only so of you readers) revelation:
"…Father still lives. Go see where Eden once was on earth. There, you will et a a young shepherd boy with a beautiful blue bird. Ask him where God is. They will lead you."
Michael’s breath caught in his throat, golden eyes widening in disbelief.
His composure—flawless for millennia—fractured.
“…What…?” It left him as a whisper, barely ford, as though saying it aloud might break reality itself.
He stepped back slightly, as if steadying himself against the impossible hope that clawed up his spine.
Gabriel’s hand flew to her mouth, her wings fluttering softly in shock. Her brother never stumbled.
Even Kuroka’s ears twitched, sensing the shift.
Hespera’s expression didn’t soften. If anything, it hardened with quiet finality, like she was tired of carrying this alone.
She let the words settle for just a breath longer before pulling back entirely, turning her back on the stunned Seraph as she motioned to Nyx and Kuroka.
"We’re done here," she announced flatly.
Gabriel started to take a step forward, her voice trembling. "Big Sis—"
But Hespera held up a hand. "Not yet, Gabriel."
And with that, she walked away—leaving Michael frozen in the golden light of the throne room, his heart pounding like it hadn’t in centuries.
"Eden…" he whispered again. "A boy… with a blue bird…"
The guards stood motionless.
Gabriel pressed a trembling hand to her heart, her breath hitching.
And high above them, the heavenly firmant seed to pulse, as if sothing ancient… and long-forgotten… had begun to stir.
~☆~
The portal rippled open with barely a sound, depositing Hespera, Nyx, Kuroka, and Ophis directly into the grand, twilight-lit foyer of her estate.
The air was warm, touched with the faint, lingering scent of sandalwood and burnt sugar—the signature warding barrier woven into the walls themselves.
Hespera didn’t break stride as she entered, peeling off her jacket with lazy grace and tossing it onto a nearby chaise lounge. Nyx floated in behind her with feline poise, while Kuroka followed closely at her side, her twin tails flicking possessively. Ophis went to make them so tea.
Noctis was already there.
The spirit stood by the hearth, hands politely folded, her form flickering faintly between spectral and solid as if struggling to contain her excitent.
The mont she saw Hespera—
She bead.
And with a small, eager step forward, she bowed deeply, hands pressing over her chest.
"Mistress… I’ve returned." She slowly lifted her head, shimring eyes wide with unspoken pride. "The Orb. The Aegis. The Chrysalis… all secured."
And then, almost nervously, she whispered under her breath:
"Did… did I do well, Mistress?"
Kuroka purred from behind, leaning into Hespera with a smirk. "Mou~ I think soone wants her head pats."
Hespera’s smirk softened into sothing almost maternal.
Without a word, she approached Noctis slowly, the spirit trembling faintly in anticipation as if waiting for judgnt itself.
Stopping just within reach, Hespera raised a hand and placed it gently on Noctis’s head, threading her fingers through that soft, silvery hair like she was handling sothing precious.
She gave a slow, deliberate scratch behind Noctis’s ear.
“Good girl,” Hespera murmured, voice warm and devastatingly sincere.
Noctis shuddered, her form briefly flickering brighter as though the praise alone had fortified her very soul. She let out a tiny, breathless sound—not quite a gasp, not quite a purr—but sothing caught between both.
Hespera chuckled under her breath and leaned closer, her lips brushing the edge of Noctis’s ear.
“You did perfectly, Noctis.”
Nyx arched a brow, arms crossing as she leaned against the doorway with a small grin.
"Tch. Look at you, spoiling her already."
Kuroka sighed dreamily, dramatically collapsing across the nearest lounge chair with her tails curling in approval. "Mou~ I wanna turn next."
Hespera ruffled Noctis’s hair one more ti before pulling back, her expression cooling again into her usual razor focus.
“Prep the gate to the Familiar Forest” she commanded softly. “It’s ti to get the last material to cure the World Tree.”
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