There was something about the Cave of Aduram... some weird-ass ancient magic or Setrum dead-zone—that messed with their god-sense. Like, no divine Wi-Fi, no prophetic bars, just radio silence. The Setrums couldn't see what was happening inside, not even with their all-seeing-eye level powers. All they knew? The Night Rider was gone. Like... permanently logged out.
And this time, for real, they didn't wanna drop the ball. Senedro was watching. Geza was praying. The Miteons were probably tweeting about it or whatever they do with their sky magic. Everyone was rooting for Jim. Dude was a full-on legend. A mortal with god vibes. But even legends die, apparently.
The real kicker? Nobody knew where the heck the Scepter of the End was. That thing could fix everything—or end everything. So yeah... bit of a problem.
Then boom—Dias showed up. Like a damn dramatic soap opera entrance. Golden robes, glow-up aura, the whole divine package.
"Fien, you disgrace," he said, in full disappointed-Setrum-bro mode, while tossing a white dress over her bare, sandy ass.
Yeah, she was naked. Tied up. Dehydrated. Still looked like a queen, because that's just Fien.
All the Setrums were pressed. Like, really pressed. She had dropped her Setrum glory like a hot potato for... what? A crown? A kingdom? Some fleeting mortal drama? It was giving "midlife crisis with cosmic consequences."
"I thought you guys weren't supposed to get involved in Senedro," Fien snapped, still feisty despite the pole situation. "Isn't that like, rule numero uno? Ancient pact and all that god-law shit? You know the rider's gone. Or are we in denial?"
Dias didn't answer right away. His silence? Loud as hell. Guilt just chilling on his chest like a weighted blanket. Jim had been his golden boy. He'd rallied the Setrums to back him—big risk, big faith—and now? Dust. Gone. RIP the dream.
"Yeah," he said finally, voice low. "Sometimes laws gotta be broken, Fien."
Then he started untying her. No theatrics, just steady hands and soft eye contact. There was history there. You could feel it. That ex-that-never-really-left energy.
"There's something I know," he said. "Something I hope Jim didn't tell you."
Fien raised an eyebrow, like bitch, what now?
Dias looked her straight in the eyes. "It was written," he said slowly, like he was reading it off some invisible scroll, "that a fallen Setrum will bring peace back to the universe."
Cue dramatic silence. Fien blinked. No comeback this time.
All Fien ever thought about? Herself. Like, let's be real—queen behavior with a side of chaos. Her intentions? Get that damn scepter, waltz back into Dalab, reclaim the throne, and maybe—just maybe—burn Hennekas to the ground. Not for peace. Not for Senedro. Just some hot, spicy revenge.
She wasn't trying to be anyone's savior. Definitely not the "chosen one." Nah. She was tryna win.
And still, somehow—somehow—Jim Slevann had trusted her. Like… what the hell was that about? Even after she played him dirty, even after she flipped sides harder than a discount pancake at Denny's, he still believed in her. Trusted her with the mission. Trusted her with his life. Now look how that turned out.
And then—Dias. Freakin' Dias. All majestic and sad-eyed, talking about fate and purpose and blah blah cosmic destiny.
He really believed this fallen Setrum bullshit. Believed that maybe—maybe—Fien could keep Jim's legacy alive.
Hell no. She wasn't built for that. And she knew Dias wasn't gonna force her. He wasn't that guy. But damn it, he looked at her like it was already written in the stars. Like some dusty-ass prophecy from the Library of Gods had her name on it in neon ink.
"Fien," he said like a disappointed dad-slash-ex-boyfriend, "you've lived trillions of years. You still don't know things. This is your purpose."
Fien scoffed. Rolled her eyes so hard the desert shook.
"No, it is not," she whispered back. Voice low. Real low. "You know me, Dias."
And then he dropped it. The nuke.
"Fien… Jessen is sick. He's dying."
She blinked. "What?! Get outta here."
"Setrums," Dias said, deadpan. "We're not what we used to be. We're dying."
For a second—just a second—the attitude cracked. A flicker of pain hit her eyes. Jessen had been like family. Not that she'd ever admit it.
And still, Dias kept going like he wasn't just shattering her insides.
"The Night Rider is gone. You still have one chance to do something right. Don't live a life void of your purpose."
And then, classic Dias move—he dipped. But not before hitting her with one final banger:
"Do not trust the Setrums."
She laughed bitterly. "You are a Setrum. Should I trust you?"
Dias turned, soft smirk like he knew her soul. "That's up to you."
Then—poof—off to another realm like the dramatic immortal bastard he was.
Fien stood there, chest tight, thoughts messier than her post-battle hair. She wasn't convinced. Not one bit.
What, was she supposed to throw her whole damn life away for a bunch of ungrateful creatures, a dying cosmic order, and a prophecy scribbled by old gods with control issues? Hell. No.
This life—this power—she fought like hell for it. She bled for it. And now when she had it, when the scepter was in her hand and the entire multiverse was watching... they wanted her to give it up? Nah. Miss her with that.
She turned her back on that silent cave, marched straight back in like the queen she was born to be. No hesitation. No second-guessing.
The scepter was right where she left it, tucked beside Jim's body, quiet and humming like a sleeping beast.
She didn't even flinch as she picked it up. It pulsed in her hand. Recognized her. Accepted her.
"Screw destiny," she muttered.
And then—she called for Meg.
Meg, the red horse. The only living thing that could hear her whisper through space and time. Wild, loyal, and mean as hell. Her bestie. Her ride-or-die. Literally.
A wind kicked up. The cave trembled. The sky cracked.
And from the fire-scorched horizon, Meg came galloping like a bat outta hell, hooves spitting sparks, mane blazing like it had attitude. Fien didn't wait. She mounted up, scepter in hand, hair wild, heart louder than war drums.
She wasn't saving the universe. She was claiming it.