The Night Heaven Forgot to Breathe

“When Heaven forgets fear… the Abyss remembers.”

Night in Heaven hummed like a heartbeat.

Mother stroked my hair, lullaby trembling beneath her calm:

Yumi:

“Stay near the light, Haise.
Never wander where shadows breathe.”

I tried a tiny laugh.

Me:

“Shadows don’t breathe.”

Her eyes darkened — starlight smothered by fear.

Yumi:

“Some do.
And they hunger for children who shine.”

Her kiss lingered… but her grip stayed tighter.

The Queen of Heaven was afraid of the dark.

Back then, I didn’t know why her hands trembled — but Heaven already did.

Soul Bridge — Frontline Guard POV

A road of light guided new souls upward — their last hymn whispered toward the Crystal Heart.

Sentinels marched beside them — armor glowing like sunrise.

Captain:

“Standard escort! Keep the walls bright!”

Then — something pulled all warmth out of existence.

Fogged visors.
Frost on halos.
A scream cut short.

A shadow rose behind a soldier — hands of broken halos dragged him into oblivion.

I wasn’t there to see it, but Heaven still remembers that night in static — the moment light learned what forgetting costs.

Armor hit the floor — empty.

Captain:

“DEMONS! HOLD THE LINE!”

But the line was already gone.

They crawled from fractures between stars —

Twisted angels
wings torn backwards
halos bent into hooks
voices singing scrambled prayers.

Whispers like dying hymns:

“Light… forgot us…”

Not death. Erasure.

Souls vanished
before Heaven could claim them.

Haru Mikazuchi Enters

A calm killer walked into chaos.

Twin blades
— one bright as newborn starlight,
— one black as a grave unmarked.

Barriers strained.
Sentinels screamed.
The line was seconds from breaking—

Haru Mikazuchi.
Spirit Wardens — 1st Lieutenant.
The Soul-Severer.

“Soul Art — Echo Sever.”

A demon lunged — and ceased.

The demon’s scream died before it was born.
Just absence.

Haru (bored execution):

“These souls belong to Heaven.”

High Demon hiss:

“The one who cuts the song…”

Haru:

“Good. You remember.”

Twin arcs — two demons erased.

A flare of hope flickered—
then ignited.

Fire cracked Heaven open.

Renji arrived — spear blazing in wrath.

Renji:

“Wardens! BACK! Flame takes the front!”

Demon wearing a child’s grin:

“Forsaken Flame... still burns?”

Renji skewered it — explosion of holy fire.

The fire dimmed too fast — every burst bleeding his own Aether dry. Even gods can burn themselves hollow.

Renji (low):

“Then I’ll burn every forsaken thing.”

Where fire halted death,
mercy rushed in.

Silver-green healing sigils spiraled through smoke.

Kaoru knelt beside a dying Sentinel — she refused the concept.

Kaoru (commanding mercy):

“Breathe.
Your story isn’t allowed to end.”

Aether surged — bones knit — light returned.

Then she saw the hollowness in others — souls half-ripped away.

Kaoru (rage breaking):

“They erase… the memory of pain.”

Healing became war.

The bridge bowed to him.

Shion descended — Lantern of Souls glowing with judgment.

Demons froze.
Even terror froze.

Broken Choir (collective whisper):

“The Lantern… is awake…”

Shion:

“You trespassed upon souls under my protection.”

Lantern flared — no screams — only unmade sins dissolving into dust.

His Authority — Judgment — sang through the light itself, every pulse a verdict.

Every flare painted his face like he was both priest and executioner — mercy burning its own shadow.

High demons fled through ripping voids —

Shion didn’t chase.
He commanded the universe to close.

The rifts obeyed.

Kaoru (breathless):

“The Crownkeeper… has judged.”

Shion:

“Send this to the Council:
The Broken Choir has risen.
And I will return them to silence.”

He walked untouched.
War dared not stain him.

Memory shimmered into form.

Commander of Lifesong — the healer above healing — the archivist of souls.

Her chalice glowed — a cage for names too brave to be forgotten.

Commander:

“Bring them.
None who fell for Heaven shall remain erased.”

Lost souls rekindled — warriors gasped back into breath.

Kaoru wept, bowing.

A throne of torn wings shifted in the void.

“The child of the Heart stirs…”

A choir of dying prayers replied:

“We remember him. We remember the rain.”

The Abyss smiled:

“He calls. We will answer.”

✦ SEVEN WOUNDS — WOUND OF DESPAIR ✦

The tear widened — hope died.

He stepped through —
crown of broken halos
wings of failed prayers.

Woundbearer — Despair
Primordial of the Seven Wounds.

One of the Seven Wounds — fragments of the first sin, emotions so deep the Heart itself sealed them away.

Despair was the memory of everything Heaven failed to save.

Sentinels collapsed —
not from force
but hopelessness remembered.

Despair:

“Lantern-bearer… we wished to see the one who denies endings.”

Shion’s lantern flared — serenity sharpened to death.

Shion:

“You claim no soul here.”

Despair laughed — everyone you’ve failed laughing with him.

“Claim? We do not claim.
We remind.”

Soldiers convulsed — crushed by their worst memories.

Kaoru:

“He’s tearing their minds apart!”

Shion stepped — one motion — divine verdict.

Despair bled black light — then grinned.

“Oh yes… You are worth returning for.”

He drifted back into the Abyss.

“Protect your prince, Lantern…
We already remember him.”

The tear sealed.
The falling did not stop.

Renji stared, shaking.

✦ AFTERMATH — Haise ✦

I shot awake — heart frantic.

Someone unseen whispered:

“Born in rain… reborn in light…”

Yumi burst in — wings trembling around me.

I couldn’t speak the truth:

The dark knows my name.
Heaven fears demons.
Demons fear Lanterns.
But demons want me.

She held me like I was already slipping away —
as if letting go once…
would let the darkness steal me forever.

Renji wiped blood-light off shattered armor.

Renji:

“If they want the Prince…
they will burn through me first.”

The Crystal Heart pulsed — violent, warning —

—heard in the Abyss.

The Concord Hall was built to withstand gods.

Tonight… it felt too small.

Archons gathered under the Azure Sigil, their voices sharp as drawn blades.
The God King sat silent — a storm inside purple eyes.

Shion Arakami bowed with the calm of someone who had faced despair itself.

Shion:

“The Broken Choir breached the Soul Bridge.
A Primordial led the incursion.”

Minister of Judgment slammed his fist:

“Impossible.
The Aegis of the Sun protects every border!”

Arval Nyx — Archon of Whispers — exhaled slowly.

Arval Nyx:

“Exactly.
Which means they never touched the borders at all.”

Silence.
Absolute.
Dangerous.

Arval’s words dropped like poison:

“There is a traitor inside Starforge.”

Gasps.
Betrayal tasted like rust in the air.

Archon of Balance:

“Do you have proof, Nyx?”

Arval leaned back — composed, amused.

Arval:

“Proof?
Not yet.
But the breach required engineering knowledge no demon possesses.”

His eyes slid to the God King.

Arval:

“Meaning someone helped them?"

The God King’s shadow stretched — the hall dimming under his anger.

God King Tenjin:

“Find them…
before I do.”

Even angels flinched.

Arval bowed deeply, lips curved where no one could see.

Once the hall emptied, Arval lingered in the dark.

He whispered:

“Chaos entered smoothly.
Good.”

Silver glyphs flickered in his palm — a hidden rune.

His reflection in the glass table didn’t match his smile.

Arval:

“Light only shines when shadows remind it to fear…”

His eyes gleamed — a predator who thinks he is the hero.

“For Heaven to evolve,
it must first break.”

A faint laugh answered from the dark —
the same laugh that echoed from the Abyss.

A pact… already sealed.

Sleep dragged me under like deep water.

Then—

Glass.
Cracking.

Reality splintered around me —
shards of Heaven and Earth swirling like mirrors breaking inside my skull.

A figure stood in the ruins of my dream.

Not demon.
Not angel.

Just a shadow wearing the shape of a man
— glitching in and out of existence,
like the world couldn’t finish imagining him.

No face.
No wings.
Only gravity — crushing.

He tilted his head, curious… disappointed.

His voice wasn’t a sound —
it was a thought forced into mine:

“You are early.”

The floor vanished.
He appeared in front of me — no movement, just arrival.

A cold hand closed around my throat
— not choking me…
measuring me.

Everything collapsed —
like the dream itself tried to run away.

Then he whispered — intimate, inevitable:

“Do not wake up yet.”

The universe shattered like a mirror—

I screamed awake.

I sat on the balcony again… but the sky didn’t look the same.

The Crystal Heart pulsed — harder tonight.

Like it was worried.

A heat crawled under my skin — not fever, but fire.

A tiny spark crackled across my fingertips
— violet-gold, alive.

“It pulsed once, twice — the same rhythm as the Crystal Heart.

The Crystal Heart pulsed in answer— not loud, but knowing…as if it recognized something inside me it had been waiting for.

Me (startled whisper):

“What… was that…?”

The spark vanished instantly,
as if afraid to be seen.

But it left the burn behind —
a warning disguised as a heartbeat.

“Whoever you are… stay away.”

END OF CHAPTER 4 — The Night Heaven Forgot to Breathe