The sky over Wysteria Academy shimmered with the soft afterglow of graduation, but inside the Celestial Garden — a sanctuary only accessible to those with awakened potential — Mi-cha stood alone beneath the Tree of Light.
Her Celestial Eyes glowed faintly pink with swirling hints of violet.
The wind whispered secrets. But they weren't from this world.
> "Mi-cha…"
A voice echoed in her head — ancient and familiar.
> "Return to the cradle of stars. The Seal has been broken."
Mi-cha clutched her chest. Her Grace Form — still incomplete — had been resonating violently since the ceremony. Her thoughts flicked to Muhan. His presence, his aura, his every breath somehow felt like… a trigger.
She turned as someone entered the garden.
Professor Ae-cha. But not as the demon in disguise. Now, she stood genuinely herself — serene, enigmatic, and with a hidden knowing in her eyes.
"You feel it too, don't you?" she said softly.
"…Professor?"
"The convergence," Ae-cha nodded. "It's begun. That pull in your soul? That burning behind your iris? That's not an anomaly, Mi-cha. It's your blood remembering its origin."
Mi-cha hesitated. "What do you mean? Origin?"
Ae-cha touched the petals of the Tree of Light.
"You are not fully human, Mi-cha. You are descended from the Celestara — a race born in the Fifth Celestial Plane. Beings who do not take damage."
Mi-cha's heart skipped. "Then… what am I?"
Ae-cha turned to face her.
"You are from the Lawson family, a living vessel of the Starweaver Lineage, a bloodline capable of synchronizing with any being tied to the Ether. That includes Muhan… the Etherborn."
Mi-cha froze. "You're saying… I'm linked to him?"
"More than linked," Ae-cha said. "You're the only one who can stabilize him if the Rift consumes him. Your presence keeps his identity grounded in this reality. Without you, he risks becoming…" She hesitated.
Mi-cha clenched her fists. "Becoming what?"
"…The embodiment of the Rift itself," Ae-cha finished. "A force of unraveling. A god of collapse."
Mi-cha fell silent.
Suddenly, her system buzzed violently.
> [System Alert]
Grace Form Limit Reached.
Synchronizing Etherborn Frequency…
Adminitrating → [Starweaver State: Merging with Grace form]
Light erupted from her back — feathered tendrils of prismatic energy like celestial wings.
Her uniform shimmered, morphing into a battle robe stitched in cosmic glyphs. Her eyes now glowed fully: a swirling galaxy of pink, purple, and starlit silver.
Ae-cha shielded her eyes. "The Starweaver State… it's only ever been activated once. And that woman—" she paused, her voice trembling, "—was the one Null feared most."
Mi-cha gasped as more memories flooded in.
Visions.
A different Mi-cha — older, divine, standing shoulder to shoulder with Muhan as entire universes fell around them. Her hands stretched out, rewriting physics with words alone. Every enemy they faced—Oblivion Beasts, Rift Creatures, Chrono-Wraiths—were annihilated by her presence.
> "You're not just meant to fight alongside Muhan," the memory voice echoed. "You're meant to keep him from losing himself."
Suddenly, her eyes snapped open.
"I have to find him," Mi-cha whispered. "He's close to something dangerous. If he breaks—if Null triggers it—this realm and it's timeline could collapse."
Ae-cha nodded. "Go. You've awakened now. You'll feel his resonance."
Mi-cha's wings extended, and in a single motion, she vanished—warping through space like a comet.
---
Meanwhile…
In Vault Zero, Muhan lay unconscious. The memory from Null had pushed him into a psychic coma. His aura was fluctuating dangerously.
But suddenly—his body steadied.
A warm energy surged through him.
And faintly… he heard her voice.
> "Muhan… I'm here."
His blue Iris opened slowly… and reflected the arrival of pink-silver light.
Then.
Within the stillness of the collapsing Rift Core Nexus, Null's shadow hovered above the floating remnants of the fractured psychic realm — jagged shards of reality spinning in suspended stillness. Time didn't exist here. Only silence.
Muhan lay unconscious in Mi-cha's arms, his breathing shallow, his Ether circuits flickering between stability and overload. Her arms wrapped tightly around him, celestial tears glittering on her cheeks.
Null stood before them, his cloak whipping in invisible winds, one eye cracked with lightning. Though once the bringer of chaos… now, he simply watched.
"You two…" he spoke, his voice ethereal, distant, almost sorrowful. "…you've done well."
Mi-cha looked up, eyes narrowed, wings still extended. "What are you really? Why show us all this now?"
Null looked at Muhan for a long while before answering.
"I am what he will become… if you ever leave his side. I was a warning… but also a catalyst."
He turned, facing the void as it began to seal shut.
"I gave you the truth. But I won't interfere again… not until the Veil collapses. Not until the stars forget their names."
Mi-cha stood. "You're disappearing…?"
Null nodded slowly.
"The next time we meet… I won't be a Warning or a Watcher....I'll be your enemy."
And with that — he walked into the void. No flash. No explosion. Just… absence. The realm stitched itself behind him like nothing had ever been torn apart.
The silence that followed felt eternal.
Mi-cha's Starweaver wings receded, and she collapsed beside Muhan, resting her forehead gently against his.
"You're safe now," she whispered. "For now… it's over."
---
Later That Night – Wysteria Academy
The campus glowed under lanterns and floating light orbs. The graduation courtyard had been transformed into a garden of laughter, music, and flickering holographic memories of student life.
Mi-cha walked beside Muhan, who had finally awakened — his iris still faintly glowing, but calm. He wore his full graduation uniform again, jacket draped over his shoulders, and her hand intertwined with his.
No more war. No more rifts. Just… them.
"I thought you'd miss graduation," Mi-cha teased lightly, nudging him.
"I almost did," Muhan smiled gently. "But someone... saved me."
"Just don't let it happen again," she murmured, squeezing his hand.
Around them, Ji-hoon and Jin-woo were arm-wrestling for the hundredth time. Soo-ah danced in a holographic circle with Chae-won. Kim was stuffing his face with desserts. Professor Bora had her hair curled into awkward spirals and avoided Muhan's gaze like a flustered teenager.
Even Han and Chae-min, Muhan's parents, watched from a distance with proud smiles.
Everything felt surreal. Ordinary, for once.
Mi-cha looked up at the night sky. The stars shimmered quietly. No more signs, no more warnings. Just peace.
> They had time now. Time to be young. To be human. To live.
As the ceremony wound down, fireworks lit the sky — violet, gold, and silver streaks painting the heavens above.
Muhan turned to Mi-cha, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear.
And for that moment — no system notifications, no secret lineages, no multiversal burdens — just two hearts beating quietly under a sky that finally felt like home.