Owen's POV
Jennings Mansion, Inner Courtyard
I sat beside Yvette on the stone bench, beneath the shadow of the Jennings family's great blood-orange flame tree. The air was still, yet it carried the distant echo of cosmic tremors—Samuel's doing, no doubt. I could feel it in the marrow of my bones.
Yvette, regal and composed, her crimson hair glowing faintly with the divine spark of her bloodline, leaned back and looked up at the night sky. She had no words, but I could tell she felt it too—the shift. The world wasn't the same anymore. It hadn't been for a long time.
"You know," I muttered, my eyes still scanning the stars, "this world… it wasn't meant to be supernatural. The original story—the base worldline—it was mundane. Simple. No systems, no pantheons. Just politics, blood, betrayal."
Yvette turned her head toward me, silent.
I continued, "…But then we came. Us. Samuel especially. He cracked open the sky like it was paper. Tore through the veil of logic, rewrote the rules like he was born to."
She nodded slightly. "And you think Roselle will come for him, don't you?"
I chuckled darkly. "Come for him? She's been watching him for ages. She and Nocturne—those two were the first to break the System. They didn't climb the ladder. They burned it and forged their own damn titles—Primordials. And now Samuel's dancing on that same edge. Of course Roselle's obsessed."
Yvette looked away, and I saw the flicker of unease in her eyes.
"You think they'll fight?" she asked. "Samuel and Roselle?"
"They will fight," I replied firmly. "A clash that'll tear dimensions apart. He's broken too many laws. Even the Void is starting to whisper his name. And knowing Roselle…" I smirked. "She might not stop at fighting. That obsession of hers isn't just hatred—it's fire. Passion twisted into reverence."
Yvette scoffed. "So you're saying they'll throw punches and then sleep together?"
I shrugged. "I wouldn't be surprised. You know how beings like her work. Everything is primal with them. If they survive each other, they'll probably end up tangled together in some ash-covered ruin."
Yvette clenched her fists slightly, not from jealousy—but from unease. Her awakening had come late. Too late.
"You know," I said, glancing at her, "you might be stronger than me right now. Power-wise, anyway. Fire Goddess or not, your raw output is terrifying. But…"
She turned toward me, eyebrow raised.
"…you lack experience. You haven't lived enough lifetimes to know how to use what you've got. Power without control is just fireworks."
She said nothing for a moment. Her aura simmered gently, heat radiating in faint pulses, as if her divine self were trying to wake from centuries of slumber.
"I didn't ask for this," she finally whispered.
I tilted my head. "Neither did I. Neither did Samuel. But we have it now. And unlike you, Yvette, I still have a system. I'm still climbing. I'm evolving, and every battle I face sharpens me. You? You're stuck in limbo."
"That's not fair," she said, her voice edged with fire. "You think I don't want to awaken? That I'm just choosing to be less?"
"No," I said evenly. "I think you're afraid."
Her lips parted slightly, stunned.
"You're afraid that when your memories return—when you remember what you really did, who you really were—it'll change you," I continued. "And you don't know if I'll still want you after that."
Yvette looked away again, her expression unreadable.
"You're not wrong," she said after a pause. "About the fear. About the memories."
I leaned back on the bench and closed my eyes for a second, listening to the world as it groaned under divine weight.
"You're close, Yvette," I said. "You're close to becoming something more. You're standing at the threshold. All it takes now… is the truth."
She was quiet for a long moment. Then finally, she whispered, "And when it comes?"
I opened one eye and looked at her with a half-smile. "Then I'll decide if you're still worthy of being my Luna."
A spark of flame curled around her wrist before vanishing into nothingness. She didn't smile, but there was something resolute in her gaze now.
And somewhere far away, in a realm twisted by void and fire, I could feel Samuel's aura spike again—like a comet splitting the heavens.
The endgame was coming. And we were all being drawn toward the center.
Whether gods, monsters, or broken souls—we were going to collide.