The Gremorys huddled together on their trembling path, unable to move, unable to breathe. Rias clutched Koneko tighter, tears stinging her eyes. Sirzechs stood before them, aura flaring despite his trembling soul, Grayfia at his side. Even Nyx — proud, untouchable Nyx — bowed her head for just a moment, her night bent beneath the sheer collision of forces.
Pandora's storm raged against a wall of inevitability.
Primordials. Thrones. The Hosts of Heaven. The Dragon Gods.
The Dimensional Gap itself trembled, caught between annihilation and preservation.
And then, silence. Everyone — mortal, divine, primordial — braced. For the next word, the next strike, would decide the fate of creation itself.
Pandora floated in the center of it all, her body a silhouette of magenta and shadow. The markings across her skin pulsed like living flame — anguish made divine. Each heartbeat cracked the void around her, rippling through dimensions like distant thunder.
Her voice was quiet now, not a scream, but a statement. "Tell me, Thrones… did He send you?"
The four Thrones stood in formation, halos blazing like newborn suns. Behind them, the legions of Heaven hovered in disciplined silence — golden wings stretching across infinity. The air shimmered with their combined presence, every note of their hymn rewriting gravity itself.
Seraphion, Throne of Will, spoke first. His voice was the language of stars when they first agreed to burn. "No. The Creator sleeps beyond even us. We come by our own decree — to end what you have become."
Pandora smiled faintly — a cruel, brittle thing. "End? You speak of endings to me? You who hid while He died?" Her wings flared wide, their tips carving through chaos-storms. "You who let my brother fall? You who watched while I was bound — and called it mercy?"
Light shuddered. Even Elysion — Throne of Dominion — shifted his stance, his massive form crackling with restrained power.
Death stepped forward, voice cold as the void. "You're grieving. You're raging around. We get it. You're cranky when you just wake up; it happens to the best of us. But you are not her. Stop trying to control my darling little storm of mayhem and get out of her!"
Pandora's head turned, her gaze locking onto Death's. For a moment, silence. Then a laugh — low, hollow, unhinged. "I said the same once. That grief does not make us weak. That compassion does not make us mortal. But tell me, Death—" Her hand raised, magenta light crackling between her fingers. "—what happens when compassion is betrayed? When mercy is mocked?"
Death didn't move. Her one arm held her scythe upright, blade glowing faintly with threads of nulllight. "Then mercy dies. And what replaces it must be ended."
Behind the Thrones, the Angelic Hosts began to sing. Not in triumph — but in mourning. Their light washed over the battlefield, turning the broken Gap into something almost beautiful.
Rias and her family fell to their knees, blinded by the brilliance. Even Nyx bowed her head, shadows recoiling from the purity of the light.
It was afuneral hymn for creation itself.
Chaos's hydra form flickered and condensed, his laughter echoing from all directions. "All this for one woman's grief. You sanctimonious bastards never change."
He turned one head toward Pandora, another toward the Thrones. "I like this. Order versus chaos, light versus dark, all pretending they have a say. But—" His middle head grinned, voice turning low and sharp. "—none of you know her like I do. My child of starlight and sorrow. The only being who could look at the void and smile. Gah! I'm so proud!"
Pandora's gaze snapped to him, the faintest trace of something flickering behind her fury. Exasperation? Embarrassment? But it was gone too quickly.
Seraphion stepped forward, wings unfurling. "You misunderstand, Chaos. We do not come for the void, nor for her grief. We come for balance. For the law she breaks by existing."
Rebirth snarled beside him, violet flames twisting into a halo. "Law be damned. I won't watch her burn again. She may be a crazy psychopath, but she's still family@"
Order staggered upright, voice strained but resolute. "Exactly right, my darling. Without law, even rebirth collapses. If she consumes reality, there will be nothing left to rise from."
Their words clashed like swords. Reality trembled.
Pandora's hand lifted — the magenta flames across her body now pulsing faster, hotter, alive.
"You all talk like gods. But you sound like frightened children."
Before she could strike, the light behind the angelic host shifted — from gold to crimson.
A shadow eclipsed Heaven's brilliance, vast wings unfurling across the void. Great Red emerged beside Ophis, their combined presence bending every particle of existence. The Apocalypse Dragon's roar tore the silence apart, his voice booming through dream and matter alike.
"Then maybe," Great Red said, his laughter shaking the multiverse, "you need a bigger child to play with."
Ophis raised her hand, her calm voice cutting through the chaos. "This ends. Now."
Pandora's smile sharpened, her flames surging higher until they touched the light of Heaven itself. "Then come and take it from me."
The air broke with command.
A line of light — golden, violet, and void-black — tore through the center of the battlefield. Heaven and Hell, Creation and Chaos, all clashed in that single axis. The image of lightning splitting the worlds burned itself into eternity — the heavens themselves cracking apart under the weight of power unleashed.
Pandora's eyes flared open, her magenta markings blazing across her body like molten script. Every beat of her heart sent a pulse through the Dimensional Gap — a heartbeat that shook existence. "You will not take this from me!"
She thrust out her hand — and reality ripped.
From that wound, chains of memory and grief exploded outward (the second image), spectral and jagged, made of souls she'd devoured and prayers she'd broken. They coiled like serpents, binding everything they touched — angels, Primordials, even fragments of heaven's light.
Seraphion raised his hand, voice ringing like law made sound. "Enough."
Light answered him. From the heavens above, counter-chains descended — radiant, inscribed in sacred geometry (the third image). Each link burned with the color of rebirth and law, blessed by all Thrones at once.
The storm became a weaving of chains and lightning.
Chaos struck first.
Their paradox-body shimmered, every head roaring laughter and wrath. They lunged into the heart of Pandora's storm, their talons bending the very axis of probability. Each strike landed in infinite permutations — a hit in all timelines, all outcomes, all possibilities.
Pandora caught one of them by the throat.
"You call yourself disorder, but you still obey causality," she hissed. "Let me show you what defiance means."
Her crimson aura surged, devouring the hydra-head she held — but Chaos only grinned as it reformed behind her, biting into her shoulder.
"That's the spirit," they growled.
Death and Rebirth struck next — twin forces of finality and renewal. Death's scythe cut through the spectral chains around Pandora, cleaving her illusions apart. Rebirth followed, releasing a torrent of violet flame that turned uncreation into blooming galaxies.
The clash sent shockwaves so vast that even the Thrones took flight to remain anchored.
Elysion stepped forward, his colossal wings spreading until they touched both edges of reality. His sword burned gold-hot, forged from the law that once birthed stars.
"By the decree of Dominion, stand down, Pandora of the First Spark."
Selaphiel followed, her thousand wings opening like a celestial storm. Her voice was softer — but her eyes shone with every sin reflected within them. "This is not judgment for what you were. This is mercy for what you've become."
Pandora sneered. "Mercy? You denied me that when He left me behind."
And with that, she unleashed her next strike.
A beam of raw grief — not energy, but emotion — tore across the battlefield, erasing everything it touched. Angels turned to light. Demons to ash. Even Chaos stumbled back.
Order raised his hand, summoning the sigil of balance — a seal of pure logic — and stopped the beam at the edge of the Thrones' circle. His body cracked under the pressure, his voice trembling. "It… will not hold long!"
The void itself screamed.
Ophis moved like a whisper through the chaos — her hand glowing faintly as she extended her will. Around her, the storm of paradox and divine fire fell silent.
And then the roar.
Great Red descended through the lightning pillar — a storm of cosmic flame and dreamlight spiraling around him. His eyes burned with infinite fury. "Enough of this grief-fed tantrum!"
He struck Pandora square on the bum. The impact ripped open a vortex that stretched across all planes. The shockwave reached Heaven, Hell, and the mortal world at once. Then he turned and hit her chest.
Pandora staggered — for the first time, truly hurt. Blood, red and black, scattered into the air like dying stars. She gently rubbed her bum in utter shock! He actually spanked her!
Michael's voice rang out from the heights of Heaven, echoing across the battlefield. "Thrones — bind her!"
And the skies responded.
The radiant chains tightened, spinning faster — links glowing with all seven hues of divine order. Each chain found its mark, wrapping around Pandora's limbs, wings, and throat. She struggled, her aura burning against the bonds, each flare dissolving a link only for another to replace it.
Chaos and Death moved to reinforce the seal, their powers weaving into the heavenly structure — paradox and finality strengthening the divine weave.
Pandora screamed. The sound was not pain. It was defiance.
"You think you can chain the end itself?! I am not the storm—" Her aura flared, cracks spreading across her body. "—I am the silence that follows!"
Lightning erupted upward, colliding with Heaven's descending light. For a brief moment, the chains of both Heaven and the Primordials glowed in harmony — a paradox of creation and destruction fused together.
The world held its breath.
The chains held. For the first time since the battle began, silence fell.
The storm of annihilation slowed, its rage muffled beneath bands of celestial light and primordial force. Pandora hung suspended within a sphere of radiant chains — Heaven's gold interwoven with Chaos's paradox threads and Death's black flame. Every link pulsed with energy older than creation.
And yet… it trembled.
The light flickered as if something inside was pushing back.
Pandora's head jerked upward, her eyes flaring open — no longer crimson alone, but laced with streaks of pale silver and violet. Her voice echoed, fractured — a double resonance, two tones overlapping like a discordant chord.
"W-why…?"
Rebirth froze, his flame stuttering. That voice — it wasn't the shriek of the Trihexa. It was softer. Terrified.
"Why… can't I stop…?"
Her hand lifted weakly, chains cutting into her wrist as she reached for something unseen. The black flames around her dimmed. Beneath the markings, her skin flickered — for a heartbeat, Pandora's body looked human again.
Hespera.
Death stepped forward, her scythe lowered. "She's surfacing."
Order's voice, strained, answered through gritted teeth. "If she breaks through completely, the seal will fail. The entity within her is fighting to merge — Hespera's consciousness will collapse trying to contain it."
"But if we keep pressing," Rebirth snarled, "we'll destroy her entirely!"
Chaos only laughed, their many voices low and knowing. "Ah. There it is — the paradox we were made to dance around. The choice between saving and ending. How delightfully mortal of you all."
Inside the cocoon of bindings, light and darkness swirled together.
Hespera floated in an endless void, chains coiled around her arms, throat, and legs. She could feel them biting into her — not as pain, but as memory. Each link whispered moments she'd buried: Kuroka's laughter, Azazel's betrayal, Lucifer's touch when they were still young and unfallen.
Her breath hitched. Her voice came as a whisper that the outside could not yet hear.
"I didn't want this…"
She tried to reach through the void, and her hand met resistance — the red glow of Pandora's hatred pressing back. Two souls, one body, each clawing to exist.
"You wanted peace."
"And they gave you chains."
"I wanted mercy."
"And they called it weakness."
The voices blended until she could no longer tell which was hers. The chains shimmered and fractured, caught between binding the monster and protecting the soul.
The Thrones' radiance flared brighter, their halos burning like suns. Elysion's voice thundered through the Gap. "She is breaking the lattice! Reinforce the axis!"
Michael raised his hand from above the clouds of Heaven, summoning new runes of containment. Tens of thousands of angels lent their power, their voices merging into a single, deafening hymn.
Ophis stood motionless amid the chaos, her gaze fixed on the cocoon. "She fights herself. That is no seal we can hold for long."
Great Red growled, his tail coiling, sparks flaring from his scales. "Then what do you suggest? She's both salvation and apocalypse now."
Ophis looked up, unblinking. "We give her something stronger than chains."
Nyx, still shielding the Gremorys far below, lifted her head as the words echoed through the storm. "Stronger than chains…?"
Ophis's expression remained unreadable. "A reason to return."
Within the cocoon, Hespera's eyes fluttered open fully. For an instant, she saw beyond the veil — the battlefield, the angels, her family, Nyx's shadow stretched protectively over the mortals below.
Her lips parted.
"Nyx…?"
Her voice rippled through the bindings, shaking the lattice itself. The runes across the heavenly chains flickered between gold and magenta — caught between command and recognition.
Pandora's voice roared back, twisted and furious. "Stay buried! They chained us! They used us! Do you still not see?!"
Hespera's tone broke, a whisper amid the chaos. "Maybe… but I still loved them."
The words hit like divine fire. Every link of the celestial seal lit up at once, resonating with a pulse that even the Thrones felt in their cores.
Rebirth gasped. "Her essence — it's rejecting the Trihexa!"
But Chaos's smile broadened. "No… she's not rejecting it. She's merging with it. Haha~ Amazing!"
The cocoon blazed, violet fire and golden light swirling until neither could be told apart. The chains groaned, stretched, and began to reform themselves around her — not as prison, but as armor.
The heavens screamed. Every angel, every primordial, every dragon flinched as the explosion of light tore through the Gap once more.
When it faded, Pandora was gone.
In her place floated a figure bound in shimmering, living chains that glowed with every color of creation — the fusion of mercy and wrath, grief and grace.
Her eyes opened, and for the first time since this began, her voice held emotion other than pain or wrath.
"Hespera Eveningstar," she whispered, "and Pandora Unbound… are no longer separate. At last, I am finally whole."
Every being present — Thrones, Primordials, Angels, and Gods — felt it. The rules had changed.