The void was gone.
Not sealed. Not banished.
Consumed.
What lingered in its place wasn't darkness or death—
—it was possibility.
For the first time since the beginning of all things, the universe had no masters. No gods. No balance. No destiny.
Just her.
And him.
And the fire that refused to die.
—
They drifted in what remained, weightless and wordless. The stars hadn't returned yet. The embers of reality flickered softly around them, like distant heartbeats waiting to be claimed.
Lina stood still, violet flame wrapping her like silk. Her eyes no longer glowed—they burned, deep pools of black with galaxies trapped in their heat.
Andra floated beside her, blood and soot on his skin, his blade sheathed now. At peace, but only because she breathed.
"What now?" he asked.
"We start over."
Her voice wasn't loud. It didn't need to be. It resonated through the broken bones of existence.
Andra tilted his head. "As gods?"
She turned to him, smiling faintly. "No. As us."
—
She reached for the embers floating in the void and curled her fingers around one. It pulsed to life, morphing into a spark of light—a world. Raw, new, pure.
She created without needing tools. Her flame shaped the beginning.
Andra watched her, awe painting his face. He wasn't jealous. He was inspired.
"Do you want to rule it?" he asked.
Lina shook her head. "I want to build it. For once, without blood."
"Then I'll protect it. No gods. No monsters. Just you and your fire."
She moved closer to him.
"And your darkness beside it."
—
They didn't just rebuild a throne.
They didn't sit on ruins or towers.
They created a seat of flame and shadow—stitched from her power and his promise. It was alive. Breathing. Shifting.
Not a throne to rule.
A home.
Andra wrapped his arms around her from behind as she stared out at the growing starlight she'd ignited.
"Will they come?" he asked quietly.
"They always do."
"What will you do?"
Lina leaned back against him, her voice soft but sure.
"Burn for what's mine. Like I always have."
—
The stars began to return—drawn by her presence. Not gods. Not angels. But new souls. New things.
They came to the edge of creation and saw her standing at the center of it all.
Not a goddess.
A flame. A lover. A queen. A weapon.
Everything they had feared.
Everything they had worshipped.
And everything she'd fought to become.
—
Let them come, she thought.
Let them test her.
Let them try to take him.
Let them try to control her flame.
She would burn the sky again.
And this time, she wouldn't leave even ashes behind.