Crisp. Real. Not filtered through system parameters or veiled by artificial logic. It filled Valerian's lungs with a strange, almost dizzying clarity—like he was breathing for the first time.
Grass swayed along the canyon's edge, verdant and impossibly green, unfurling from black stone that had moments ago looked barren and dead. Birds circled high above, their calls unfamiliar, as if they too were new creations learning how to exist.
Valerian remained kneeling, hand still warm from where it had touched the gate. His heartbeat slowed. The gate was gone. Not sealed, not shattered—simply… gone. It had passed through them, through him, and in doing so, remade the structure of everything.
Selene sat beside him, legs folded beneath her as she stared upward. Her silver hair, normally bound in a tight braid, fell loose around her shoulders, the strands catching the starlight.
"These constellations," she whispered, "they weren't here before."
