Azure Blue's dusk always came slow, like the world hesitated to let the night take over. The twin suns slid beneath the mountains in languid silence, casting long gold shadows through the forest canopy. Every branch glittered with residual qi from the new resonance, and the air smelled faintly of thunder and wet moss.
Lucien's clone walked through it barefoot. The soil hummed under his step, singing faint echoes of a world just beginning to understand him.
He wasn't in a hurry. He rarely ever was.
Since the transformation—since the rivers had changed song and the heavens had bent their tone—Lucien had chosen to stay. There was something intriguing about this world. Its people were weak by cosmic measure, yet stubbornly alive. They fought the heavens with desperation rather than divinity.
And so, he wandered.
A faint cry stopped him.
It was small. Fragile. Almost lost between the rustle of trees and the low growl of beasts. But to Lucien, it was clear as day—the desperate whimper of something innocent in a world that had already decided its fate.
He turned his head slightly.
The forest's rhythm slowed. The wind paused as though waiting for permission to move again.
Then he vanished.
The scene he arrived to was painted in ruin. A broken carriage lay tilted against an ancient tree, its wheels snapped and wood scorched with claw marks. The sigils of a noble family were half-burnt on its side—faded symbols of celestial birds and sunfire crests.
Around it, wolves.
Massive, with eyes glowing blue from absorbing the planet's new resonance. Dozens of them circled the wreckage, their low growls vibrating the ground. Their leader—a silver-furred beast with a mane of flickering qi—snarled and lunged.
Lucien didn't move.
The wolf stopped midair.
It wasn't a violent stop—it was as if reality itself had politely declined to continue that motion. The creature hung suspended for a moment before dissolving into particles of starlight, quietly erasing itself from existence. The rest backed away instantly, whimpering, their instincts screaming that something above life stood before them.
Lucien's gaze shifted to the carriage.
Inside, beneath torn silk and shattered wards, was a baby.
A girl. Maybe only a few weeks old. Wrapped in what was once a noble's blanket, now dirty and bloodstained. Her eyes, though barely open, glimmered faintly violet beneath the fading light.
She didn't cry anymore. She just looked at him—like her infant soul already knew who stood there.
Lucien crouched, brushing aside a loose strand of black hair from her tiny face. "Hmm," he murmured, his tone calm, almost distant. "You survived this?"
The baby blinked.
And then, for the briefest instant, the forest's resonance shifted again. The melody of Azure Blue bent around her presence like a note being retuned.
Lucien tilted his head, faint amusement flickering across his expression. "Oh… interesting."
He lifted her effortlessly, and as he did, the wolves who hadn't fled knelt instinctively, their heads low in submission. Even they could feel it—the faint pulse of something ancient hiding inside this child.
"Your fate wasn't meant to end here," he said softly, his gaze flicking toward the darkening sky. "But perhaps fate has a sense of humor."
He stood, the baby resting quietly against his arm. "I suppose I'll raise you, little one. On this world, under this new rhythm. You'll see what it means to exist between Heaven and Void."
Her tiny hand grasped his finger.
Lucien blinked. Then, slowly, a small smile curved his lips—genuine, if only barely.
"So you choose me, then?" he said, tone quiet but edged with warmth. "Brave."
The wind stirred again.
He took one last glance at the ruined carriage. With a thought, it turned to ash and scattered into the air, the remnants of her old life erased cleanly.
"Let's find you a home, then," he murmured, looking down at her. "I'll call you…"
He paused for a moment, considering the way the forest light shimmered against her violet eyes, the faint glint of gold hidden beneath.
"…Aelira," he decided. "Aelira Dreamveil."
The name resonated. The world accepted it instantly—like Azure Blue itself whispered it back through its wind.
He turned, the baby in his arms, and began walking through the forest toward the distant mountains.
Above, the twin suns slipped beneath the horizon, replaced by an ocean of stars. But in the center of them all, one star flared brighter than the rest—a star that hadn't existed yesterday.
The planet had recorded her name in the heavens.
That night, when Aelira finally fell asleep in Lucien's arms beneath an open sky, the wolves lay around them in a perfect circle—silent sentinels, eyes glowing faint blue.
Lucien leaned back against a tree, eyes half-open, watching the stars. "A daughter, huh," he murmured. "Seems the multiverse still enjoys irony."
For the first time in what felt like eternity, his voice carried a trace of quiet peace.