The Citadel had grown quiet. Selene had returned to Aetherion, her presence still lingering in Lucien's void like a whisper of warmth, but Lucien himself did not linger. He stood on the balcony of his sanctum, staring out into the endless nothingness beyond, when it happened.
A faint ripple.
Not the kind that came from Outer Gods, nor the tearing of mirrored rifts. No… this was deeper. Older. It was like the heartbeat of existence itself tugging at him.
Lucien's lips curled into the faintest of smirks.
"…So it finally calls to me."
He closed his eyes, and the void around him shifted. His presence bled through dimensions until space itself bent, guiding him to the source.
What he found made even him pause.
Before him stretched a colossal tree — so vast its roots burrowed through infinite layers of void, its trunk piercing into realms unknown, and its branches weaving together the fabric of creation. Planets, stars, and dimensions seemed to hang from it like fruit, tethered by unseen threads of cosmic law.
"The World Tree…" Lucien murmured. His voice held no awe, only recognition. "The spine of reality itself."
He stepped closer, his void trailing after him like a cloak, brushing against the ancient bark. The surface pulsed faintly, alive, resonating with the same energy that had once birthed The White. He could feel it — the truth. The tree was not merely supporting existence; it was the wellspring of it. From its sap came the flow of dimensions, and from its roots came the void he himself commanded.
But then the ground shifted.
A growl rumbled through the void. The air trembled as a colossal presence emerged from the roots. Slowly, a beast stepped into the open — scales black as starlight, its body stretching endlessly, wings vast enough to blot entire realms. Its eyes glowed with primordial fire.
A guardian.
Lucien tilted his head as it lowered itself, the tree quaking at its movement.
"A dragon," he whispered, though it was far older than the dragons of myth or fable. This was a wyrm of origin — born the moment the first branch of the World Tree stretched into the void. Its roar was not merely sound but command, echoing through the marrow of creation.
"Leave, intruder. None may approach the roots."
Lucien's smirk deepened. "Intruder? No. I was chosen long before you were ever hatched." His eyes burned faintly silver as inevitability itself rippled across the void. "Still… it would be discourteous not to test your resolve."
The dragon's wings unfurled, blotting out galaxies. The World Tree shuddered as it bared its fangs.
Lucien stepped forward, utterly calm, the shadows at his feet stirring like a storm.
The guardian had declared war, and the Sole Exception did not ignore declarations.