The realm of eternity rarely slept. It was a place without the ticking of clocks, where time neither advanced nor retreated, where stillness carried a weight heavier than silence itself. But tonight, for the first time since the torment began, Hine found herself sitting alone, untouched by Ronova's cruel games. There was no loop waiting for her, no agony lurking behind her shoulder, no sudden end tearing her from existence.
The girl sat atop a stretch of smooth obsidian, high above the expanse of the void, staring at the blanket of stars that stretched infinitely across the eternal sky.
She had seen them before, countless times during brief moments between loops, but she had never really looked. Not like this.
Her breath trembled as her eyes traced the clusters. Some shimmered with the faint glow of silver, others burned gold, and a few pulsed in strange hues of blue and violet, their colors reflected in the black glass beneath her.
Hine hugged her knees to her chest. The bruises on her arms had faded again, replaced by the false wholeness of this place, but the ache lingered. Her body always healed, but her mind… her mind still carried the memory of every death, every scream that had been ripped from her throat.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
The voice was soft, almost like a melody carried on a quiet wind. Hine turned her head to see Naberius standing behind her, the Ruler of Life as calm and radiant as always. Her presence softened the air, filling it with warmth and the faint scent of blooming jasmine.
Hine nodded but did not speak. Words were hard to find.
Naberius stepped closer, her bare feet silent against the stone, and lowered herself gracefully to sit beside the child. She followed Hine's gaze upward, her expression thoughtful.
"These stars… each one holds a story," Naberius murmured. "Lives born, lives lost, and lives still waiting to bloom. Eternity records them all."
Hine tilted her head slightly. "Do… do they remember me?"
The question slipped out before she could stop it. She regretted it immediately, but Naberius's gentle smile eased the sting of embarrassment.
"They do," the Ruler said softly. "Every life leaves an echo, even yours. Every step you take, every breath you draw, every moment you fight — it all finds its way into the fabric of eternity. The stars remember even when you cannot."
Hine swallowed. She wanted to believe that. She wanted to believe that her suffering, her endless loops, were not for nothing. That maybe somewhere, beyond this place, her sister's face still waited for her.
She closed her eyes, imagining that smile — the same smile that had carried her through the fire, the ice, the crushing voids, and every other nightmare Ronova had thrown her into. She clung to that memory like a fragile thread, refusing to let it slip through her fingers.
Naberius studied her quietly. The girl's resilience fascinated her. Even here, in a realm where most souls broke within days, Hine refused to surrender. The determination in those tired eyes was unlike anything she had ever seen.
"You've grown stronger," Naberius said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Hine blinked at her. "Stronger?"
"Yes," Naberius replied. "You do not see it yet, but I do. You've learned to stand, to fight, even when the ground beneath you gives way. That strength will carry you further than you can imagine."
Hine didn't answer. She didn't know how. She traced her fingers along the surface of the obsidian, watching the way it shimmered faintly, mirroring the distant lights above.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The stars flickered gently, their glow steady and calm, like a lullaby written across the heavens.
Then Naberius tilted her head slightly. "Would you like to know a secret?"
Hine looked up, hesitant but curious.
"The stars are not just lights," Naberius said, her smile deepening. "They are doors. Windows into places you cannot yet reach. When you are ready, Hine… you will find that the path you seek lies among them."
The girl's heart thudded in her chest. She wanted to ask what that meant, what kind of path Naberius spoke of, but something held her back. Maybe it was fear, or maybe it was the quiet reverence of the moment, but she stayed silent, letting the words settle like soft snow.
Instead, she whispered, "I just want to find her."
Naberius turned to her, her amber eyes warm with a strange sadness. "And you will," she said firmly. "But finding her will require more than endurance. It will require understanding — of yourself, of the loops, of the balance that binds this realm together."
"The balance…" Hine echoed, the word tasting foreign on her tongue.
"Yes," Naberius replied. "Life and death are not enemies, Hine. They are dance partners, bound by steps that neither can break. Every death you endure, every life you are given back, is a lesson. And when you understand that lesson… you will stop being a pawn."
A flicker of determination lit up Hine's face, even through the exhaustion etched into her features. She didn't want to be a pawn. She didn't want to dance to Ronova's twisted tune forever.
Naberius reached out and brushed a stray strand of hair from Hine's forehead. The touch was feather-light, almost maternal.
"Rest," she said softly. "The loops will begin again soon. Let this moment be yours."
Hine hesitated, then let herself lean slightly against Naberius, her small frame trembling from a mixture of fatigue and something else — a rare, fleeting sense of safety.
Above them, the stars burned brighter, as if watching, as if listening.
Time didn't move in the realm of eternity, but for Hine, the night passed in a way that felt almost human. She traced constellations with her eyes, naming them in her mind with words that belonged only to her, building little stories to anchor herself.
One star, bright and golden, she named after her sister.
Another, pale and silver, she named after herself.
And together, in that endless expanse, the two stars stayed close, side by side, even when everything else was scattered far apart.
As the quiet stretched, Naberius whispered, almost to herself, "You are not ready yet, little one. But you will be."
Hine did not hear the words. She had already closed her eyes, slipping into the closest thing to sleep the realm of eternity could offer.
And for the first time since her arrival, her dreams were not filled with pain.