The maps burned away long ago.
No cartographer dared draw what lay beyond the known realms—beyond Hell, beyond Heaven, beyond the threads of life and death. But Lina knew.
Because the fire whispered to her.
And the fire never lied.
So she and Andra stood now at the edge of all things. Where time curled back on itself. Where stars were born only to weep. Where the oldest gods had once walked—and then vanished.
They stood before the Voidspire.
A tower made from the bones of universes. It reached beyond the sky, humming with memories of creation. It was said to hold the last breath of the First Flame—the source of every realm, of every god.
Andra looked up, jaw tight. "If we enter, we may never return."
Lina didn't hesitate. "Then we carve a new way out."
Together, they stepped forward.
—
Inside, silence pressed like a thousand hands. Not empty—but listening. The walls were etched with stories in languages no longer spoken. Some glowed. Some bled. All watched.
Deeper they went.
Until they reached a door.
No handle. No key. No lock.
Only a whisper burned across its surface:
> "She who has loved in flame may enter."
Lina placed her palm on it. The fire inside her pulsed—recognizing itself. The door melted, and the world beyond it unfurled like a memory.
They stepped into a realm untouched by gods.
A place where the flame was pure.
Where it wasn't destruction.
But creation.
And in its center stood a woman.
Not human. Not demon. Not divine.
She wore no crown. No armor.
Only a cloak of golden fire and eyes that saw everything.
"You are late," she said.
Lina stepped forward, voice steady. "You knew I would come?"
"I knew you would burn through everything to get here."
Andra growled low, stepping between them. "Who are you?"
The woman smiled.
"I am the First Flame."
The one from whom all power was born. The mother of gods. The origin of everything.
She turned to Lina. "You came to destroy the old order."
Lina nodded.
"And now?"
"Now," Lina whispered, "I want to rebuild it. But in my name. In our name."
The First Flame studied her. Then extended a single hand.
"You must take me into you. Become more than flame. Become origin."
Lina turned to Andra. For the first time, fear flickered in her eyes. "If I do this… I don't know what I'll become."
He took her face in his hands, bloody and soft all at once. "You'll still be mine."
She kissed him, hard and deep.
Then turned—
And walked into the flame.
—
It didn't burn.
It transformed.
Her memories stretched across timelines. Her pain melted into stars. Her love for Andra exploded like a supernova, and her rage… oh, her rage became law.
She saw everything.
And when she stepped out, the fire around her had changed. It was no longer wild.
It obeyed.
The First Flame was gone.
Because Lina was now its vessel.
Its voice.
Its queen.
And as she took Andra's hand, their power fused once more—not just ruler and consort, but gods of a newage.
One realm was never going to be enough.
Now, all of them belonged to her.