The night air over Mount Oryx was heavy, suffocating. The stars that Uranus commanded now bent unnaturally, constellations warping into shapes no mortal tongue could name.
Megumi stood stiffly before him, every nerve taut, his body vibrating faintly with divine pressure. He had taken the god's hand — and in doing so, had opened himself to whatever test Uranus chose to impose.
The titan god of the sky did not speak immediately. He simply studied Megumi with those galaxy-filled eyes, and in their reflection Megumi saw himself a thousand times over — bloody, broken, kneeling, raging, dying.
Finally, Uranus's voice filled the cliffside.
"Tell me, child… what is it that you fear the most?"
Megumi's jaw clenched. "Losing them again. Ava. Chloe. The ones who stayed."
Uranus tilted his head. "And what if I told you that was inevitable? That every god you destroy, every throne you topple, only tightens the noose around them? You think you fight to protect, but you are the knife at their throats."
Megumi's chest heaved. His fists trembled. "That's not true."
"Isn't it?" Uranus stepped closer. His voice softened, cutting sharper than any blade. "Your wife was slain because of prophecy. Your unborn child, because of what you might be. And even now, as you clutch to your mortal shell, the thing buried inside of you claws for release. You are not their savior. You are their doom."
Megumi staggered back a step. His aura flickered violently — gold, black, and white thrashing against each other, the red lightning snapping like chains breaking.
Uranus pressed harder. His eyes blazed, constellations burning as he whispered, almost kindly:
"Look at your hands, Megumi Valentine. Do you see a father's touch? A lover's embrace? Or do you see the hands of a monster who brings only death?"
The words sank deep. Too deep.
Something inside Megumi snapped.
His head dropped, shadow swallowing his face. The aura that had flickered now roared, a storm of black and crimson erupting around him. The ground split beneath his feet, stone cracking like glass.
When he raised his eyes, they were no longer golden. They were bottomless voids ringed in scarlet flame. His voice, when he spoke, was not his own.
"You dare test me, Sky-Father?"
The world itself recoiled. The night wind turned icy, the stars above dimmed as if afraid. Even Uranus's robe of starlight shivered under the weight of the voice.
Uranus did not flinch. He exhaled slowly, almost as though he had been expecting this.
"So… you are still alive."
The First Fallen King tilted Megumi's head, a cruel smile stretching across his face. "Alive? I was never gone, Uranus. Only waiting. Waiting for a vessel worthy enough to carry my wrath."
Megumi's body surged forward with impossible speed, vanishing and reappearing before Uranus, hand raised as though to tear the titan's heart out. But Uranus raised a single finger, and the air solidified, halting the blow inches from his chest.
Their eyes locked. Two primordial forces staring into each other, history bleeding into the moment.
Uranus: "You nearly destroyed everything once. You would do so again, through him."
Fallen King: laughing darkly "Do not mistake me for the boy. His grief was the door. His rage the key. I am only the truth he was always meant to become."
Uranus: "No. You are rot. A wound on creation. He is not you."
Fallen King: leaning in, voice like poison "And yet, here I am. Breathing through his lungs. Beating through his heart. Every time he swings that blade, every time he screams in fury, it is not Megumi Valentine you hear. It is me."
The stars flared violently above, the constellations flickering as though the sky itself trembled.
For the first time, Uranus's face hardened, the faintest crack in his composure. "You will not have him."
The Fallen King sneered. "You still cling to your illusions, old sky. You think you command the heavens, but even stars burn out. Even you will kneel when I rise again."
Then, as abruptly as it came, the aura faltered. The black-and-crimson storm shrieked, then collapsed inward. Megumi fell to his knees, gasping, clutching his head as if trying to tear the voice out of his skull.
When he looked up again, his eyes were golden once more — wide, terrified, and wet with sweat.
"Wh-what was that…?!" Megumi's voice cracked.
Uranus lowered his hand slowly, the constellations in his eyes dimming. He regarded Megumi not with anger, but with a deep, ancient sadness.
"That… was the truth that sleeps beneath your skin."
Megumi's breathing came ragged, his entire body trembling. "You're telling me… that wasn't me?"
Uranus knelt down, placing a hand heavy as the sky itself on his shoulder. "No, child. That was the First Fallen King. The one who defied even me at the dawn of time. He has been waiting, buried in the marrow of prophecy, waiting for a vessel strong enough to finish what he began."
Megumi shook his head violently. "No. No, I won't let him—"
Uranus's grip tightened, forcing his gaze upward. "Listen to me. If you give in to despair, he wins. If you cling only to rage, he wins. He will use your pain as his weapon. That is why I pushed you. That is why I broke you just now. Because if you cannot master your own grief, then he will."
Megumi's throat burned. His eyes stung. "Then what do I do?"
Uranus rose to his full height, looking once more like the infinite sky in human shape. "You learn to carry it without drowning in it. I will not shield you from him, Megumi Valentine. I will forge you against him. For the day will come when it is not me standing here… but him."
The words hung in the night like iron chains.
Megumi looked down at his shaking hands, the memory of that other voice still echoing inside his skull. For the first time since stepping into the River Styx, true fear coiled around his heart.
And Uranus… simply looked up at the stars, his expression unreadable, and whispered to himself:
"The war has already begun."