Five days had passed since that night.
The winds had changed. The palace no longer rang with laughter. The celebration that once brought life to Olympus now faded into distant memory.
Underneath the massive silver-barked tree in the inner garden, its blossoms glowing faintly under the celestial moonlight, Jin sat in silence. His eyes were lost in the vast sky above, but his heart was buried far deeper, sinking into places even he could not reach.
Lia sat beside him quietly, her white robe slightly brushing his. She leaned gently against his arm, letting her head rest on his shoulder — not to seek comfort, but to offer it. Her fingers traced tiny circles against the fabric of his sleeve, her breath calm, warm, human.
"I haven't seen Velka in days," Lia said softly. "She's gone, hasn't she?"
Jin didn't answer.
Silence stretched like an arrow wound — it didn't bleed, but it hurt. Lia's gaze remained lowered, but she could feel the weight of guilt pressing from Jin's soul.
"You can tell me," she said again, gently.
A long breath left him.
"She confessed to me," he whispered. "And I rejected her. No — not rejected. I broke her. I destroyed her in a moment of rage. I kicked her."
Lia didn't flinch. She didn't recoil. She closed her eyes, her face melancholic, and spoke the words that lingered on her heart for days.
"Do you know why she loved you?"
Jin turned his head slightly, but Lia continued without waiting.
"She loved you not for power, not for divinity, not for desire. She loved you because you were broken — and still you stood up. She loved the way you carried the world's betrayal with grace. She didn't want to take anything from you, Jin. She wanted to stand beside you, nothing more."
Jin's lips parted, his breath caught. Lia's voice was so calm — so pure, it was terrifying.
"At first…" Lia admitted, "I hated her. I thought she was another selfish soul, clinging to you out of obsession. But I was wrong."
She looked at Jin now, her eyes deeper than any truth he had ever faced.
"She is not selfish. She is… pure. Painfully so. She didn't want your heart if it meant stealing it from someone else. She only wanted to be near it. Do you understand the difference?"
Jin clenched his fists.
She smiled — a tired, but true smile.
"I once believed love meant being the only one. But I was wrong. Love isn't a battlefield where one heart wins and the other loses. Real love… the kind that survives gods and war and centuries… it isn't about ownership. It's about presence. The will to stay."
Lia leaned in and kissed his cheek.
"She doesn't want your crown. Or your destiny. She just wants to be beside the man who once saved her from drowning in herself."
For a moment a silence between them lingered. She broke the silence and continued.
"I am your wife, Jin. I've already chosen that path. But if your heart truly holds love for her too… then let her be beside us. She belongs there."
Jin turned to her, speechless.
"I'm not saying this because I'm weak. I'm saying this because I'm strong enough to know that love isn't measured by exclusivity. It's measured by loyalty. By who stays when the world burns."
Her voice became quieter.
"She stayed, Jin. Even when it shattered her."
Jin stood suddenly.
Without a word, he raised his hands — and dozens of golden threads surged from his fingertips.
"Alter Body."
From within the divine matrix of his spiritual core, he split himself into multiple clones. Perfect, sentient fragments of his being. They vanished into the winds — across mountains, oceans, and forgotten lands.
Then he whispered again: "Alter Ego: Summon."
Dark portals opened and ancient monsters, his personal hounds of chaos, emerged from the shadows. They howled as he released their seals. "Find her. Search every realm. Bring me Velka."
With a snap of his fingers, Eres and Nyxses appeared.
"Search. Look into the Dream Corridors, into the Past Reflection Pools. Tear time if you must."
And then… nothing.
Hours passed. The clones failed. The monsters found no trace. Even Nyxses returned empty-handed, eyes heavy with worry.
Later that night, alone on the same balcony where everything had ended, Jin stepped into the cold wind.
The sky was starless. The moon stared like an accusing god.
In his hand, he held the crushed gift Velka had tried to give him.
He had picked it up days ago but never dared open it — until now.
Slowly, he pulled open the damaged box. Inside, nestled in crushed velvet, was a pendant — a simple silver ring hanging from a string of star-glass.
No gold. No gems. Just quiet sincerity.
He lifted the letter beneath it.
To Jin,
"I know you hate me. I never wanted your rage — I only ever wanted your peace.
This pendant… it's a symbol. Not of love. But of presence.
I made it using fragments of my own soul, carved during the years I watched you fight against the gods. It doesn't grant power. It doesn't glow. It just stays.
Like I wished I could.
I never loved you to be loved back.
I loved you because you existed.
Even if you send me away…
I will love you.
Even if you destroy me…
I will forgive you.
Not because I want something…
But because…
I wanted to stand beside you.
Happy Birthday, my foolish, broken, beautiful god."
Jin's hands trembled.
Tears fell.
The pendant dropped to the floor, clinking softly.
He remembered a promise that he told to Aurelion before he breathed his last.
He could see Aurelion now — his final breath, his last words, before fading to ash.
"Don't fail her like I failed my daughter," Aurelion had said.
Now he had become what he feared most.
Just like his father.
Just like Zhel-Vorah — cruel, cold, unreachable.
"I'm sorry," Jin whispered to the empty night.
"I'm sorry, Velka. I should have listened. I should have seen you. Please…"
His voice broke.
"Please tell me where you are…"
The stars above did not answer.
Only the pendant remained.
And the broken god, who now understood what it truly meant to be alone — not from abandonment, but from breaking someone who never deserved it.