The sky was blue again—pure, endless, soft like it had never been ripped away. The sun sat where it belonged, warm enough to comfort and cruel enough to mock. Mountains stood whole. Oceans breathed in steady tides. Cities—once smashed into dust and erased to nothing—rose again like they were never touched.
Birds flew.
Children laughed.
Somewhere far beyond the horizon, the multiverse spun calmly in its restored alignment… as if the screams that once filled it were only a bad dream.
Eve's knees hit the earth with a sound like bone cracking.
Her hands—shaking, trembling, desperate—scraped at the ground as if she could claw open existence itself and drag him back. Fingers tore against dirt and stone. Nails snapped. Blood smeared across the soil.
"NO—!"
Eve's wings—once radiant, once divine—twitched violently behind her like wounded nerves. Light leaked from her body in unstable pulses, flashing like a heart trying to beat after death.
"I—I DIDN'T—" she stammered. Her throat seized, choking on the words. "ADAM—!"
She reached out into empty air.
Into nothing.
Into the place where his warmth should've been.
Her fingertips grabbed only silence.
Only the echo of her own breath turning ragged and animalistic.
"DON'T LEAVE ME!"
Her scream ripped through the restored world like lightning. The clouds above trembled. The wind froze in place.
Alexander ran first.
His boots thundered over the fractured landscape, splashes of old blood still staining the earth from the war that had ended minutes ago. He reached for her.
"EVE!" he shouted.
She didn't respond.
She didn't see him.
Her eyes were wide and empty, the kind of empty only the truly broken carried—like the soul had stepped aside and left the body behind.
Kai followed, faster than sound, appearing beside Alexander like a shadow.
"Don't touch her," Kai warned instantly, his hand hovering near his blade.
Alexander snapped his head. "What?"
Kai's eyes narrowed, locked on Eve's trembling aura.
Seraphina landed behind them with a violent flap, her wings folding tight like she could shield herself from the sight. Vincent's steps slowed, his face grim, his fists clenched until his knuckles whitened.
Dr. Jin, breathless, stared at the cracks spreading across the ground.
Eve rocked back and forth like a child.
Her lips trembled.
Her voice became small.
"Why… why didn't I stop him?"
She swallowed hard, tears pouring down her face like silver rain.
"He—he was my brother… and I—"
Her breath hitched.
"I KILLED HIM!"
The scream that followed shattered the air.
A shockwave detonated outward, flattening broken trees, sending soldiers skidding across the earth like dolls. Alexander and Vincent were forced back. Seraphina shielded Jin with her wings. Kai dug his heel in, barely holding his ground.
Eve's aura erupted into the sky like a pillar of flame.
"ADAM!" she cried again, her voice shaking the heavens. "COME BACK!"
Her fingers stretched toward the sky.
And for a split second.
For one single heartbeat.
It looked like the world might answer.
Eve looked up.
Her tears stopped mid-fall, as Yahweh descends in front of her.
"Y… Yahweh…" she whispered.
For a moment, relief flashed in her face.
Like a child seeing a parent.
Like a warrior seeing salvation.
Like a broken heart seeing hope.
"Please…" she said, her voice raw. "I can't—I can't do this without him."
"I know," he said quietly.
Eve's shoulders shook.
She leaned forward—
And Yahweh's hand reached out.
Eve flinched at first, then melted.
Like the comfort she needed had arrived.
His palm gently touched her forehead.
Eve's eyelids fluttered.
Seraphina whispered, "He's calming her…"
Vincent stared, suspicious. "Or—"
Kai's eyes widened.
"No…"
Yahweh leaned closer.
His voice remained soft.
The tone of a father.
A creator.
A God.
"You did well," Yahweh murmured.
Eve trembled as if those words were all she ever wanted.
Then Yahweh continued:
"But you are no longer needed."
Eve blinked.
Her brow furrowed.
"W…what?"
Yahweh's hand pressed harder.
A new sound filled the air.
Not wind.
Not thunder.
A noise like reality being torn open from the inside.
Eve's eyes widened in horror as glowing symbols appeared across her skin like chains, wrapping around her neck, her shoulders, her arms, her wings.
A divine seal.
Seraphina shouted, "WAIT—!"
Alexander stepped forward. "Yahweh—!"
Kai vanished—reappearing closer in an instant—blade half-drawn—
But the moment he moved, the air crushed him.
Invisible weight slammed Kai into the ground like a meteor.
He coughed blood.
His muscles refused to move.
Vincent tried to jump in.
He dropped too.
"NO!" Alexander roared, forcing himself forward by sheer rage.
His knees buckled.
His bones screamed.
But he kept crawling toward her.
Toward Eve.
"STOP—!"
Yahweh did not look at him.
He did not acknowledge them.
He looked only at Eve.
Like she was property.
A tool.
Eve's voice broke. "Yahweh…? Why…?"
The light in Yahweh's palm turned black.
It wasn't darkness.
It was absence.
It was the concept of being removed.
"Because," Yahweh whispered, "you were always a part of me."
Eve shook her head, choking. "No… no, I'm— I'm Eve!"
Yahweh's tone didn't change.
"And I am taking back what belongs to me."
The seals tightened.
Eve screamed.
Not a battle scream.
Not rage.
Pure fear.
Pure helplessness.
Her skin glowed brighter, burning from the inside as her divine core was ripped apart molecule by molecule.
"AAAAGH—!"
Eve reached out toward Alexander.
Her fingers shook violently, desperate.
"HELP ME—!"
Alexander's eyes widened, tears forming.
He tried to stand.
Tried to move.
Yahweh leaned down, whispering into Eve's ear.
"Thank you," he said gently.
Eve sobbed. "P-please…"
Yahweh smiled.
"Thank you for being such a useful tool."
Eve's eyes snapped open, disbelief shattering her face.
Tool…?
Eve's body began to crack the way Adam's did.
But where Adam shattered into light that felt sacred—
Eve's cracks were violent, jagged, forced.
Like she was being consumed alive.
Her screams became distorted, layered with echoing voices—her own divinity being overwritten.
Seraphina was crying now, trying to crawl forward.
Don's fists dug into the earth, blood running down his hands as he tried to resist the crushing pressure.
Eve's voice weakened.
Her tears floated upward into Yahweh's palm, swallowed like dew into an ocean.
"A…Alex…"
Alexander choked. "EVE—!"
Eve's eyes met his.
And for that final moment—
She looked human again.
"I'm… sorry…" she whispered.
When he opened them again…
they were darker.
He looked down at the survivors.
At Alexander.
At Kai.
At Seraphina.
At Don.
At Vincent.
At Dr. Jin.
Yahweh's voice carried across the world like a divine sentence.
"You should be grateful," he said.
"The multiverse lives."
Then he turned away, ready to leave.
As if he hadn't just committed the greatest betrayal in existence.
As if Eve never mattered.
As if Adam's sacrifice meant nothing.
Yahweh hovered above the broken land, calm and complete, as if he had simply retrieved something that belonged to him.
Something fell from the sky.
Not ash.
Not light.
A body.
It landed hard on its knees and hands like a human being thrown down by cruel hands. Dirt and small rocks scattered from the impact.
A shiver ran through everyone at once.
Because it was her.
Eve.
Alive.
Not as a goddess.
Not as a divine warrior.
Not as Paradise royalty.
Just… a girl.
Her wings were gone—completely erased, as if they had never existed. Her armor flickered once and dissolved, leaving torn cloth and bare skin marked by old scars.
And her hair—
No longer blonde.
It was black.
Jet black.
Long strands hanging messily over her face like the curtains of a funeral.
Her eyes lifted slowly.
Not red.
Blue.
A clean human blue—cold, hollow, and terrifying in how normal it looked after everything.
A clean human blue—cold, hollow, and terrifying in how normal it looked after everything.
Seraphina's lips trembled.
"…Eve?"
Vincent couldn't breathe.
Dr. Jin whispered, "No… that doesn't make sense…"
Kai's hand twitched near his weapon out of instinct.
Alexander took a single step forward, shaking.
"Eve…?"
Eve didn't answer.
She didn't cry.
She didn't scream.
Her hands clenched into the dirt like she was holding back something inside her skin.
Above her, Yahweh's expression shifted for the first time since he descended.
In confusion.
He stared at Eve's kneeling body like an equation that should've solved itself but didn't.
"…Impossible," Yahweh murmured.
His gaze moved across her body carefully. Like a scientist examining a failed experiment.
"I took everything," he said quietly.
The air no longer recognized Eve as divine.
She had no holy pressure.
No radiant aura.
No celestial flame.
No divine authority.
Nothing.
She was empty.
Human.
Mortal.
But still there.
Still breathing.
Yahweh lowered slowly, hovering closer, staring at her with something almost… offended.
He lifted his hand again.
A black-and-gold circle of scripture formed over his palm—an absorption seal.
He pressed it toward her.
The seal touched Eve's shoulder.
Light surged.
Symbols ignited.
And Eve's body—
refused.
Yahweh's eyes widened slightly.
He pulled his hand back.
"…A blockage?" he thought.
His expression remained calm, but the inside of his mind churned.
Her divinity has been taken.
Her purpose has been fulfilled.
She was made from me.
She is a part of me.
So why?
Why could her flesh not be absorbed?
Why could her physical form not return home?
Yahweh stared at her like a locked door.
Then Eve's fingers moved.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
She pushed herself off the ground.
Her black hair fell across her face—then slid back as she lifted her head.
Her blue eyes stared upward.
Straight at Yahweh.
And in those eyes—
there was no grief anymore.
No mercy.
No love.
Only something flat and dead.
Eve's lips parted.
Her voice came out low.
Quiet.
Human.
But carrying a weight that made the planet tremble.
"I'm going to kill you."
The air grew heavy, thick, suffocating.
Seraphina tried to breathe and couldn't.
Vincent took one step back, eyes wide, jaw locked.
Dr. Jin's knees hit the dirt as if his body instinctively surrendered.
And Eve's blue eyes darkened.
Yahweh stared at Eve.
And slowly…
his lips curled upward.
His eyes sharpened.
That confusion melted away, replaced by something rare.
Excitement.
A smile spread across his face—wide, eager, almost youthful.
Like a warrior who had been bored for eternity…
and finally found entertainment.
"Ha…"
The sound escaped him like laughter.
"Interesting," Yahweh said softly, his voice dripping with pleasure.
He opened his arms slightly.
Welcoming it.
Inviting it.
"Eve…"
His halo flared.
The scripture behind him ignited like a thousand burning laws.
His voice deepened with power.
"Show me."
No one moved.
No one spoke.
Not even Victoria—who normally mocked tragedy like it was art—was smiling.
If she was anywhere…
she was watching.
Silently.
Terrified in a way she'd never admit.
Even Zadkiel—if he lived—would've felt it.
Because this darkness…
Something that shouldn't exist.
Something that made God smile because for the first time in creation—
God might bleed.
Eve stood still.
Black hair moving slightly in a wind that wasn't real.
Her voice was quiet again.
But it didn't sound human anymore.
It sounded like the end of mercy.
"I'm going to kill you."
Yahweh smiled wider.
"Then come," he whispered.
And the sky above them—
began to crack.