The heavens were ash.
The angels gone.
The divine silence shattered.
But something older stirred beneath the ruins.
Something that remembered before memory, before gods, before even flame.
Lina's flame had burned through the divine and claimed the Throne of Cinders, but it had also woken something. A presence beyond concept. A hunger beyond worship.
Andra stood at the edge of what was once the Celestial Sea, now blackened and cracked like dried blood. He stared down into the abyss that had opened where starlight used to sing.
"There's no soul left here," he muttered.
Lina approached slowly. Her steps left trails of embers across marble that no longer reflected the stars. "That's because something's eating them."
He turned. "It followed your flame."
She nodded. "It always does."
—
They named it the Voidborne.
Not because it came from the void—
But because it made void.
It had no face. No voice. It appeared in the space between thoughts, where gods once hid their fears. A remnant of a forgotten war, born when creation first tried to define itself.
Now, it had smelled her power. Her rebellion. Her love.
And it wanted it all.
—
The first attack came in dreams.
Lina woke screaming, violet flames lashing out uncontrollably, cracking the walls of the fallen palace. Her vision was filled with whispers, eyes that didn't blink, hands that reached from the dark between stars.
Andra was there instantly, wrapping her in his arms, taking the burn, the fury, the unraveling pain.
"I saw it," she whispered. "It doesn't want my crown."
He looked into her eyes. "What does it want?"
"My flame. My soul. You."
—
Together, they descended into the nothingness beyond the realm's edge. Beyond where light obeyed physics. Where gods feared to look.
And they found it waiting.
Not as a creature. Not even as a force.
But as absence.
No fire could burn here. No love could speak. No hate could roar. Just… silence.
But Lina stepped forward anyway.
"Are you afraid?" she asked it.
And in a voice that mimicked every sound she'd ever heard, it answered:
"You are not real."
—
Lina laughed. The sound echoed like wildfire through the emptiness.
"Then how is it that you're so afraid of me?" she asked.
Andra, behind her, unsheathed his blade. It flickered even here, wrapped in her fire. "Tell it," he said.
She raised her hand. Flame sparked—not of heat, but of defiance. Not bound to gods. Not shackled to fate.
"I am Lina," she said. "Born of rebellion. Baptized in chains. Crowned in war. I burned heaven. I claimed hell. And this…" Her fire surged.
"…is mine to protect."
The void lunged.
Andra roared. She unleashed.
—
The battle wasn't one of weapons or flame. It was existence against erasure. Love against void. Power against the absence of it.
The void tried to unravel her. It showed her visions of what she could have been—a girl left behind. A soul who never fought back. A flame that flickered and died.
And still, Lina stood.
Because behind her stood Andra. Always.
Her flame didn't just burn the void. It rewrote it. Gave it form. Gave it meaning. And in doing so… destroyed it.
—
They stood in the aftermath. No stars. No gods. Just silence.
But Lina smiled.
"Now the universe is empty," she said.
Andra looked at her, eyes blazing.
"Then let's rebuild it."