Elena's dream did not end.
Instead, it deepened—
pulling her further into memories she never lived yet somehow belonged to her.
The scene blurred…
colors twisted…
and when they settled—
She found herself standing in a colossal hall.
Tall pillars of glowing stone rose to the ceiling.
Crystalline lights pulsed like stars trapped in glass.
Guards lined the walls, armor shining with elemental brilliance.
And at the far end—
Aren sat on a raised throne carved into the very heart of the mountain.
He looked younger… sharper… colder.
Not just a warrior.
A king.
The King of the First Valley.
The strongest Valley.
The Valley that controlled 20,000 towns
and protected 30 lakh people.
Elena whispered inside the dream:
"…Aren… you were already… ruling so many…"
Around him stood the Elder Council—
gray-robed, stern-faced, cold-eyed leaders
who managed the Valley's laws, traditions, and ancient rules.
Elena's weak, unconscious body lay behind a shield, surrounded by healers and scientists.
Aren was discussing her fate.
---
THE OPPOSITION
"She is human," Elder Droven snapped.
"A creature of the old world—weak, powerless, useless."
"She may be bait," Elder Rena added.
"Sent by monsters. Or worse—by other Valleys."
"She has no element," another elder argued.
"She brings no benefit to us."
"We cannot protect someone with no power."
"She is too dangerous to keep—throw her out!"
Luther stepped forward angrily.
"She is not a monster."
Marge growled, embers rising around her.
"She was half-dead when we found her!"
Lucy glared.
"We can't abandon someone just because she's powerless!"
Martin folded his arms.
"She didn't attack. She didn't resist. She didn't corrupt anything."
Homer nodded.
"She reacted to the Commander's energy. Monsters don't do that."
The elders scoffed.
"You all grow too soft."
"Humans belong to history, not our land."
"Throw her beyond the wall—let fate decide."
Aren remained silent for a long moment.
Too long.
The silence stretched like a drawn bowstring.
One elder stepped forward.
"Commander Voss," he said firmly, "our Valley must not risk millions of lives for one strange woman. Not even if she looks human. Tradition—"
"Tradition."
The word cracked from Aren's mouth like thunder.
He stood.
Every warrior in the hall bowed instinctively.
The Elders stiffened.
Aren's eyes shone with electricity, fire, and light—
his three elements swirling in storm-bright fury.
"I am the tradition here."
Silence swallowed the room.
Aren descended the stairs, each footstep echoing like distant thunder.
"She is human," Aren said quietly, "and that alone makes her rare… precious… one of the last of our oldest ancestors."
The elders exchanged uneasy looks.
"But humans have no element," Elder Droven argued. "She will be a burden—"
Aren cut him off.
"If she is a burden, I will carry her."
Shock rippled through the hall.
Aren's companions looked stunned.
Even Elena's unconscious dream-self twitched as if hearing him.
"And if she is dangerous," Aren continued,
"I will kill her myself."
His voice was deadly calm.
Unshakable.
Absolute.
"But she stays."
The elders erupted.
"You cannot decide this alone!"
"The Council must vote!"
"This violates the Core Laws!"
"She is no match for you! No element!"
"She cannot become part of the Valley!"
Aren turned slowly.
His expression darkened.
"That is why I am making it official."
He walked toward Elena's unconscious body.
His eyes softened—just slightly.
Then he spoke the words that shattered the entire hall:
"I will marry her."
The breath of every person in the chamber caught.
The hall filled with gasps.
"WHAT?!"
"Commander—NO!"
"You cannot choose a powerless woman!"
"She has no core!"
"Her energy won't match yours!"
"You have waited years for a queen—she cannot be it!"
Aren's voice thundered:
"I said she will be my wife."
Lucy clutched her chest.
Marge's eyes widened.
Martin mouthed, "Commander…?"
Homer blinked rapidly.
Luther swore under his breath.
The elders were furious.
"You dare break the sacred rule?!"
"A match must have equal element power!"
"She cannot bond to you!"
"If your Core connects to hers, she will die!"
Aren's fire aura ignited.
Lightning sparked across the floor.
"Then I will take that risk," he said coldly.
"And so will she."
Elder Rena stepped forward.
"Commander… you waited so long for the queen. The Valley has been waiting. Women from all Valleys came to seek your Core match. For years your Core rejected everyone."
Aren's jaw clenched.
"My Core has not rejected her."
"You don't even know that!" Rena shouted.
Aren turned to Elena.
Still unconscious.
Still fragile.
Still powerless.
He placed his palm lightly over her wrist.
For a heartbeat—
Nothing.
Then the faintest spark of green warmth met his touch.
A flutter.
A whisper.
A connection.
A Core link.
Everyone froze.
The elders stared, mouths parted in disbelief.
Lucy whispered, trembling,
"She… she reacted to him."
Marge held her breath.
Homer's eyes widened.
Martin stepped back in shock.
Luther's voice cracked.
"No way… Commander… she… she matched?"
Aren lowered his hand slowly.
His voice was quiet…
but it carried like a storm rolling across mountains:
"My Core has chosen."
The hall fell silent.
No council, no elder, no warrior dared challenge him.
Ancient laws stated that once two Cores responded,
marriage was destiny.
Unbreakable. Lifelong. Eternal.
A mate bond.
A soul tie.
Even death could not sever it.
Aren's eyes glowed—
possession, protection, fate, and something deeper swirling in them.
"Prepare the joining ceremony," he ordered.
The elders bowed, defeated.
His five commanders stood in awe.
Clara cried quietly in the corner.
And Aren—
the king of the First Valley,
the strongest man in the Apocalypse,
the only warrior with three elements—
looked down at the fragile sleeping human girl and whispered:
"I found you."
The dream shattered—
and Elena awakened, breathless, heart racing,
the echo of Aren's vow still ringing in her chest.