While Raven lay sleeping alone in the bed, her heart ached from missing her hubby far too much. In her loneliness, she clung to her sister like a doll, who winced with a painful expression as if something was crushing her bones.
Suddenly,
“Husband!” Raven shouted, jolting awake with a start.
“W-What?! Get off me, you p-pervert!!!” Thalia yelled in shock, shoving her sister away. But as she rubbed her groggy eyes and glanced around… there was no one there!
Thalia’s lips twitched in annoyance as the realization hit her—she had fallen for one of her sister’s pranks yet again. She shot Raven an exasperated glare, scratching her head in irritation. “What’s your problem, yo–” Her words trailed off as she noticed Raven’s face growing unusually serious. Her frown deepened. “What now?”
Raven, completely ignoring her sister, was staring intently at the wall as though possessed. However, her mind was far away, replaying Aether’s words from before. She muttered, “Okay.”
“Okay? What okay?” Thalia demanded, her voice rising with worry. “Don’t tell me you’ve gone insane! Is it that bastard’s fault? Missing him is making you lose it!”
“Hmm…” Emberlyn’s voice broke the tension as their mother stirred. She sat up on the floor, stretching stiffly. Since the bed belonged to the Emperor, she had refused to lie on it out of respect, despite her daughters’ endless attempts to convince her otherwise.
“What’s… all this noise? What’s going on here?” she asked, her tone groggy yet tinged with curiosity.
Raven’s expression turned grave, “Husband told me… the time has come.” Her words were so resolute that both women froze, exchanging confused glances.
“The time for what?!” Thalia snapped, her patience thinning. “And how in the world did he tell you? Are you seriously saying you talked to him in your dream or something?”
Emberlyn nodded in agreement, her tone softer but no less concerned. “I know it’s lonely without your partner, my dear, but dreaming about him talking to you isn’t healthy. You need to focus on reality,” she said soothingly, reaching for a jug of water to offer her.
Raven pouted, her cheeks puffing out in indignation. She couldn’t believe they thought she was making things up. “I really talked to him!” she insisted. She held out her left forearm, revealing the ‘∞’ tattoo etched on her skin. “We’re connected through this sacred mark. It’s how we communicate!”
Both Thalia and Emberlyn frowned deeply, shaking their heads in disbelief. They couldn’t wrap their minds around her claim, thinking she had truly lost her grip on reality.
Raven noticed their sceptical expressions and sighed dramatically, her pout intensifying. “You don’t believe me, do you?” she muttered, her tone almost sulking. She marched over to the window and pointed outside, her lips curling into a knowing smirk.
“Holy sh–” Thalia’s startled exclamation was abruptly cut off as Emberlyn slapped a hand over her daughter’s mouth, glaring at her for her language. The two women stared in stunned silence at the enormous piece of land that appeared to be moving toward their Empire.
“See?” Raven said triumphantly, puffing out her chest with pride. “My husband told me this was happening! Now, I have to meet Lyirrs and the others.” She began changing her clothes briskly.
Emberlyn, startled, scrambled to change as well and hurried after her daughter. Meanwhile,
Thalia stood frozen… She glanced at her right forearm, where there was nothing but bare skin. With a frown, she grabbed a pen and scribbled a small design, mimicking the sacred mark.
“Hello?…. Pervert?” she whispered, pressing her forearm near her ear. She held her breath, waiting for a response. But… there was only silence.
Her face flushed crimson as she realized how ridiculous she looked. “O-of course only an idiot would believe something like that…” she muttered, chuckling awkwardly to herself. Mortified, she stormed off with an embarrassed expression.
…
….
“What happened, Empress?” Lyirrs asked, kneeling before Raven with her head bowed low. The sudden late-night summons had caught her off guard, and she was clearly trying to mask her surprise.
“We need to change the plan,” Raven said sharply.
Lyirrs frowned, her confusion evident. “What plan—“
Before she could finish, Raven pointed outside, her eyes narrowing.
“Holy fu-” Lyirrs’ instinctive curse was cut short as Drakhairs clapped his hands together. “Watch your tongue in the presence of the Empress,” he chastised sternly.
Lyirrs immediately bowed her head, her voice laced with regret. “My apologies, Your Majesty.”
Raven’s expression softened as she waved off the formality. “It’s fine,” she said kindly. “
After all, you’re the one teaching me about royal etiquette. There’s no need to be so formal between us.” She had told Lyirrs countless times not to kneel every time they met, but the woman had always refused, fearing it might anger the Emperor. Over time, the two had developed a cautious friendship.
Drakhairs cleared his throat before speaking. “May I ask what the Emperor shared with you, Empress?”
Raven nodded. “He inquired about the current state of the thrusters,” she said, her voice steady and commanding.
Lyirrs’s face turned grim, her voice low and cautious, “Please forgive me, Your Majesty, but I honestly thought we had at least a month or so before the collision. This… this is happening far too suddenly.”
“He asked what the current situation with the thrusters is,” Raven repeated, this time with a sharper, more deliberate tone.
Lyirrs lowered her head further, a deep sigh escaping her lips as she responded. “Only 40% of the project has been completed so far. We’ve barely managed to construct just two thrusters.”
Raven rubbed her temples with a frustrated groan, her annoyance clear. “That’s not even remotely close to being enough…”
Drakhairs nodded grimly, his expression darkening. “Judging by the speed at which that massive landmass is moving, the collision could very well happen tomorrow or the day after. We simply don’t have enough time to finish building the remaining thrusters,” he admitted, his voice heavy with dread.
He knew deep down that this catastrophe was becoming increasingly inevitable.
Raven suddenly hummed softly, her expression distant as though she was tuning in to a voice only she could hear. After a brief pause, she spoke again, her tone sharp and inquisitive. “Can you build a funnel?”
Lyirrs blinked in surprise, confusion etched across her features, “A… funnel?” She exchanged puzzled glances with Drakhairs, both of them trying to make sense of her sudden request. After Raven’s brief explanation, both Lyirrs and Drakhairs frowned even more.
“What’s the use of that? I don’t think it will wor—”
“Do you have a problem?” Raven interrupted curtly.
Drakhairs immediately shook his head, lowering his gaze in submission. “Of course not, Your Majesty. I was merely wondering about the purpose of such a structure and how it fits into the plan.”
“That,” Raven said with a confident smirk, “is something my husband—your Emperor—will take care of personally. How much time would it take to construct the funnel?”
Lyirrs hesitated for a moment, her brow furrowing in concentration as she did a quick calculation. “Considering the depth of the Empire and the materials we currently have at our disposal… If we assign every available worker, we might manage to complete it in about two hours.”
Raven nodded decisively, “Then get it done. Build as many funnels as possible before my husband arrives,” she commanded with an air of authority.
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Thalia, who had been silently observing, raised a curious eyebrow. “What’s the funnel for, exactly?”
Raven shrugged casually, her lips curving into a sly, almost playful smile. “I’m not entirely sure… but if my guess is right…” Her smirk deepened, “The Pride shall not die.”
Thalia’s lips twitched, “Oh? So now you’ve suddenly become an expert in deciphering your husband’s cryptic words?”
Raven shrugged again, her haughty smile widening even more, which only served to irritate Thalia further.
‘That pervert!’ Thalia cursed inwardly, her thoughts bitter but tinged with reluctant amusement as she bit her lip to hold back a retort.
Before anyone could say another word, a sudden, radiant light emanated from Raven’s chest. Her rainbow Arcane card emerged from within her, shimmering brilliantly as it hovered in the air before her. In an instant, the world around them shifted and warped. Everyone else disappeared, leaving only Raven and the glowing card suspended in an endless void of space.
But it wasn’t just Raven. Across the vast corners of the worlds, every chosen one—whether they were held captive, sleeping soundly, playing games, or even indulging in acts of violence—experienced the same strange phenomenon. Their Arcane cards lit up with blinding brilliance, detaching from their bodies and floating before them…
Then, an ethereal voice echoed from the cards, its tone resonant and laden,
“Now… The Third Trial begins.”
Everyone’s widened in utter shock, as the Ethereal voice,
“The worlds do not show mercy, even to those with the strength to destroy them. It demands balance, patience, and…. endurance beyond comprehension. Show me… how much you can endure.
Prove your worth.
Show me if you can bear it all!”