Chapter 2787: Story 2788: The Heart That Hated Creation

The forgotten child’s smile spread across Ronan’s face.

It was not the smile of a warrior preparing for battle. It belonged to a child who had waited in darkness for centuries, listening to the world celebrate the lives he had been denied.

The creature beyond the door lowered its hand.

“You cannot hate me,” it said. “Hatred is something I gave you.”

Ronan’s sword trembled.

Inside him, the forgotten child laughed bitterly.

He still believes everything belongs to him.

“Then let him learn otherwise,” Ronan whispered.

He stepped forward.

The crown split further, sending white fragments spinning around his head. Each fragment carried a different memory: a cradle burning beneath a red moon, Seratha running through a palace of bones, and four brothers screaming as their names were ripped from their souls.

The creature raised one finger.

The memories stopped.

“You were my heart,” it declared. “Without you, creation is dying. Every kingdom, every living thing, every soul you have ever loved exists because I chose to dream.”

Ronan looked toward Lyra.

She had finally broken through the barrier, but she stood frozen beside the ruined doorway. Her face was pale, her broken bow hanging uselessly from one hand.

“Is that true?” she asked.

The creature turned its empty eyes toward her.

“Ask your warrior what happens when I awaken completely.”

Ronan felt the forgotten child retreat inside him.

For the first time, the boy was afraid.

Don’t let it finish waking.

“How do I stop it?” Ronan asked silently.

You can’t kill it.

“Then what?”

Make it remember.

Before Ronan could ask what that meant, the creature swept its arm across the chamber.

The floor opened.

Beneath the stone lay an endless sea of stars, each one shining inside a human face. Ronan recognized thousands of them—soldiers, kings, children, and strangers whose names had vanished from history.

Among them was a young woman with Lyra’s eyes.

Lyra staggered backward.

“That face...”

The woman in the stars reached upward, pressing her palm against an invisible surface.

“Lyra,” she whispered.

Lyra dropped her broken bow.

“My mother?”

Seratha closed her eyes.

The creature spoke gently. “Every soul returns to me eventually. Even those you believe you have lost.”

“No!” Lyra rushed toward the stars, but Aren caught her before she could fall into the abyss.

Ronan’s anger erupted.

Crimson fire raced along his sword, swallowing the golden light surrounding the creature. He struck the ground, and a shockwave tore through the chamber.

For a moment, the ancient being staggered.

Then it laughed.

The stars beneath their feet began going dark.

One by one, the faces disappeared.

“Stop!” Ronan shouted.

“Choose, then,” the creature replied. “Keep your stolen heart, and watch every soul perish. Return it to me, and I shall restore everything you have lost.”

The forgotten child screamed inside Ronan.

It’s lying!

But Lyra was staring at the fading face of her mother.

Ronan saw the terrible choice forming in her eyes.

He lowered his sword.

“I’ll give you what you want,” he said.

“Ronan!” the Firstborn shouted.

Ronan placed his hand against his chest.

The crown fell apart.

And from inside his body, the forgotten child began to emerge.

Yet before the boy could leave, Lyra seized Ronan’s wrist.

“Look at me,” she whispered.

Her eyes filled with tears.

“If you give yourself away, who will bring us home?”

Ronan hesitated.

Then the creature screamed—not in triumph, but fury.

Because behind Lyra, the vanished stars were returning.

And every restored face was looking toward her.

The woman who resembled Lyra opened her mouth and spoke a name that made Seratha fall to her knees.

“The First Daughter.”