Nero and Celis found a bench.
Not by accident or convenience, but because Nero’s feet just carried them there while his brain processed approximately forty different concerns about tiline countdowns and cult conspiracies and the weird weight in Celis’s expression that made his chest feel uncomfortably tight.
The bench overlooked Legendor’s western gardens where evening flowers released scents that probably violated several atmospheric regulations through sheer concentrated sweetness.
Magic-infused blooms glowing faintly in the dimming light, creating ambient illumination that felt more intimate than practical.
Celis sat with hands folded in her lap.
Proper. Composed.
Like a student preparing to confess sins to a particularly understanding teacher, except the student was centuries old and the sins were probably complicated enough to require their own theological council.
"There was soone."
Her voice erged barely above a whisper, archaic speech pattern sohow making the admission feel ancient and profound rather than awkward.
"A companion most dear to mine heart, who bore thy visage similar to Savior."
"..."
Nero’s breath caught.
Not dramatically. Just a small hitch that suggested several puzzle pieces had suddenly clicked into uncomfortable clarity.
The way she’d looked at him during their first eting.
That lancholy bleeding through her serene composure at random monts.
How she’d offered to be his woman with such imdiate certainty despite barely knowing him.
All of it suddenly made horrifying sense.
Her expression carried the weight of centuries compressed into a single mont of vulnerability... her half-lidded eyes reflecting internal visions that seed to exist sowhere beyond present reality, and Nero remained absolutely still.
Instinct screaming that interruption would shatter whatever fragile courage she’d gathered to actually speak about this.
"... Where is he now?"
The question erged as gently as he could manage, though his throat felt weirdly tight.
"..."
... But Celis’s slight headshake answered before words could.
"... I see."
Nero reached over without thinking, covering her folded hands with his own in a gesture of pure comfort rather than anything romantic.
Just... contact.
Human warmth against isolation that probably stretched back further than his entire lifespan.
The simple touch made her breath hitch slightly, like she’d forgotten what genuine comfort felt like and her body was rembering against her will.
"... Sorry," he murmured, aning it completely. "Take your ti... I’m not going anywhere."
"..."
A mont of silence, before a faint nod was given to him as a reply back.
***
Celis spoke in fragnts.
Pieces of mory surfacing with unexpected clarity, triggered by Nero’s presence and patience and the fact that he wasn’t demanding explanations or getting weird about the resemblance.
Just... listening.
"He was kind, as thou art kind."
Her smile turned bittersweet, fingers unconsciously gripping Nero’s hand tighter.
"Though his kindness manifested differently. More reckless. More willing to sacrifice for others even when wisdom counseled restraint."
She paused, searching for words that could translate centuries-old emotions into comprehensible language.
"We traveled together during tis of great darkness, when the world balanced on edge of catastrophe, and his presence made burdens feel lighter simply through existing beside ."
The way she said it suggested companionship that transcended simple friendship.
Sothing deeper. More fundantal.
The kind of bond that shaped who you beca long after the other person was gone.
Nero remained quiet, thumb unconsciously tracing small circles against her hand while his brain tried processing the emotional weight behind her carefully controlled words.
She didn’t elaborate on specifics.
Leaving gaps that suggested either inability or unwillingness to share complete truth, but the emotion bleeding through painted a clear enough picture.
Loss that had carved itself into her very being.
"What happened?"
The prompt ca softly when silence stretched too long, and Celis’s expression transford into sothing approaching ancient pain.
The kind that even centuries couldn’t fully heal because so wounds were too deep for ti alone to fix.
"He made a choice."
Her voice cracked slightly despite obvious attempts at composure.
"... As heroes often must, between his own survival and a world that needed saving."
She faintly said as she "gazed" towards the sky.
"And I... I was not able to prevent the outco that honor demanded of him."
"..."
The confession landed like a physical blow, and Nero found himself squeezing her hands without conscious decision.
Offering what comfort he could to pain that predated his existence by margins he couldn’t properly calculate.
"... You know, that wasn’t your fault, right?" He slowly continued, "... Sotis people make choices we can’t stop, even when we’d give anything to change the outco."
Celis’s half-closed eyes opened slightly wider, turning toward him with such sudden focus it felt like she was seeing straight through to his soul.
"Thou... dost not think weak? For failing to save one I cared for?"
"Weak?"
Nero almost laughed, except the question was too genuine.
"You’re one of the most miraculous person I’ve ever t. Not only because you could heal and even revive... but because you’re still here."
"... Still here?"
The woman was obviously confused, tilting her head.
"Still helping others.... Still choosing kindness despite carrying that kind of loss."
He t her gaze steadily.
"That’s not ’weakness’ in my opinion. It’s the opposite."
"..."
For a mont another silence t his words, before the mysterious Saintess’ gaze fell to the sky once more, with the following words barely escaping her faint smile,
"... Thank you, Hero."
***
Evening deepened into proper night.
Legendor’s magical streetlights flickered to life in cascading waves that transford the city into a constellation of artificial stars, each lamp igniting with soft pops that created rhythm across the urban landscape.
They sat together in comfortable silence that felt heavier than usual but not uncomfortable.
Just... weighted with shared vulnerability.
Nero found himself thinking about all the subtle ways Celis had supported them without ever asking for acknowledgnt.
Her gentle guidance when he’d been completely overwheld by his new reality.
Patience teaching him about the rged world’s insane complexities.
That serene presence that sohow made chaos feel manageable, like having a calm eye in the center of their perpetual storm.
"Thank you for trusting with this."
The words erged quieter than intended, but carrying absolute sincerity.
Celis’s breath caught slightly, her expression shifting into sothing that looked almost hopeful beneath the lancholy.
"Thou art welco, Savior."
Her smile looked less fragile now, like sharing even fragnts of her burden had provided relief she hadn’t known she needed.
"And... Thank you for listening to my request without judgnt or uncomfortable questions. It must have been hard on you."
"Tis fine."
She faintly replied.
Nero squeezed her hands gently before releasing them, the gesture feeling like acceptance of both her past and present without demanding more than she could give.
They remained on that bench longer than necessary.
Just existing in each other’s presence while the city’s nightlife buzzed around them with blissful ignorance of the emotional weight being processed on a random garden bench.
When they finally rose to return to Waifuria, sothing fundantal had shifted.
Deepening from friendly respect into genuine emotional connection built on mutual vulnerability and trust that couldn’t be faked or manufactured.
Celis’s hand found his naturally as they walked, and Nero didn’t pull away.
***
Perspective shattered.
Reality twisted.
Volcanic hellscape replaced peaceful gardens with violence that suggested the universe had anger managent issues.
*CRACK! BOOM!*
Jagged obsidian formations jutted from scorched earth like teeth belonging to so slumbering titan, sharp enough to cut dinsional fabric if anyone was stupid enough to test it.
The air tasted of sulfur and concentrated malevolence, temperature fluctuating wildly between "uncomfortably hot" and "actually lting reinforced armor."
This is Nefarynth... the territories of the demon on the newly Reford Earth.
And through this nightmarish terrain marched armies that made mortal military forces look like children playing with toy soldiers.
*Thump. Thump. Thump.*
Coordinated footsteps of thousands shook the volcanic plains with rhythmic precision, divine energy radiating from assembled forces in waves that temporarily stabilized corrupted reality through sheer concentrated willpower.
Thor stood at the vanguard.
Mjolnir crackled with barely-restrained lightning that painted shadows across his battle-scarred features, making him look less like the jovial figure from mythology and more like concentrated apocalyptic violence wearing a god’s face.
His expression promised death delivered with extre prejudice to anyone stupid enough to stand in his path.
Beside him, Athena’s tactical projection materialized in glowing light.
Fortress layouts. Troop movents. Seventeen different approach vectors calculated with precision that ca from divine-level reconnaissance and millennia of strategic experience.
Her armor glead with defensive enchantnts that made space ripple uncomfortably, like reality was trying to find comfortable distance from concentrated tactical genius.
Gathered around them stood legends whose nas had echoed through human mythology for longer than most civilizations had existed.
"The Seer confird it."
Thor’s voice rumbled across assembled forces with power that made the volcanic landscape tremble sympathetically.
His usual jovial deanor completely absent, replaced by grim determination that suggested soone was about to have a very bad day.
"The Obsidian Covenant’s leadership operates from within these territories. Colluding with demon kings who think alliances with mortal cultists represent acceptable strategy."
Athena’s grey eyes reflected calculation happening faster than conscious thought, already running probability matrices for seventeen different battle scenarios simultaneously.
"More concerning is the secondary objective."
Her voice carried weight that made even veteran gods straighten with sudden attention.
"The Antagonist’s presence has been detected in this region."
*...*
Silence crashed down like physical pressure.
Because facing coordinated demon armies was manageable.
Difficult, dangerous, but ultimately within acceptable paraters for divine military operations.
But confronting the prophesied harbinger of apocalyptic darkness?
That elevated this from standard military campaign to potentially civilization-defining conflict.
The kind that got rembered in historical records assuming anyone survived to write them.
*!!!*
The assembled armies spread across volcanic plains in formations representing millennia of warfare experience.
Divine energy radiating from their combined presence in waves that made corrupted reality feel temporarily more stable, like the universe was reconsidering its life choices under concentrated mythological scrutiny.
Athena’s final strategic briefing concluded with characteristic precision.
Backup plans.
Contingency protocols.
Ergency extraction procedures distributed among squad leaders who’d commanded legions through countless historic battles and knew exactly how badly things could go wrong.
Thor raised Mjolnir high.
The gesture served as both rallying symbol and declaration of imminent violence, lightning arcing between sky and hamr in patterns that suggested atmospheric conditions were about to beco extrely unfriendly.
"FOR THE REALMS!"
His battle cry resonated across assembled forces with power that made the volcanic landscape crack.
"FOR CIVILIZATION! DEATH TO THOSE WHO WOULD ENSLAVE MORTAL AND DIVINE ALIKE!"
*ROOOOOAR!*
Thousands of voices answered in unified roar that shook dinsional barriers, suggesting this would be rembered as either glorious victory or catastrophic defeat with absolutely no middle ground possible.
Then—
*CRACK!*
The Nefarynth’s largest fortress gate split open.
With its sound like continents grinding together, corrupted energy bled out in visible waves that made the air taste of sulfur and concentrated despair.
The darkness beyond that threshold felt alive.
Hungry.
And erging from it ca a figure whose re presence made even legendary warriors grip their weapons with sudden wariness.
Tall. Impossibly so.
Horns that curved like architectural nightmares.
Eyes burning with malevolence that suggested he viewed this assembled divine host as entertainnt rather than genuine threat.
A Demon King.
One of Nefarynth’s ruling powers whose individual strength could devastate armies through casual violence.
He stepped forward with arrogance that made reality flinch, and his smile promised carnage that would test whether mythology could truly triumph over concentrated demonic malevolence.
"Well, well."
His voice carried across the volcanic plains like poisoned honey.
"The gods finally decided to visit. How... delightful."
Lightning crackled.
Divine energy surged.
The mont before the massive battle stretched like a rubber band about to snap.
*BANG!*
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