The Day Before Tomorrow

FINALE

Act I — Packing the Sky

The suitcase wasn’t heavy.
But lifting it felt like holding a gravity well.

Uniform. Grimoire. A charm from priests.
Hidden underneath — a photo of Ray drawn by me.

A memory disguised as a wound.

Yumi stood behind me, adjusting my collar
with gentle, trembling hands.

Her smile tried to be sunlight.
But her eyes kept seeing storms.

Yumi (soft fear):

“Try to stay near your friends… Kael and Lyra. Promise me.”

I nodded, because lying was easier than truth.

Me (inner):

“Friends… then why does the sky feel so empty?”

She brushed a strand of hair from my face,
her fingertips lingering like she wished time would stop here.

But time is merciless.

Yumi (lifting his chin, smiling through worry):

“Eat properly. Sleep before midnight at least once a week.”

Me (smirk):

“I’ll schedule that around dodging dragons.”

She flicked my forehead — soft, motherly.

Yumi (shaking, but brave):

“You don’t have to be strong every second…
Come home when the weight hurts.
I will always carry the rest.”

Me (barely breathing):

“If I come home broken…?”

Yumi cupped my face, tears threatening:

“Then I’ll put you back together.”

I hugged her — afraid the moment would shatter.

Act II — Siblings of the Storm

Kael and Lyra waited together near the gate —
their carriage humming with flame runes.

Kael stood rigid, glare sharp,
while Lyra clutched the charm bracelet like a lifeline.

Kael (trying to sound annoyed):

“Don’t be late. They’ll think you’re useless.”

Me:

“Correction: you already think that.”

Lightning sparked across his knuckles —
but instead of a punch…

Kael (voice cracking, eyes averted):

“Just… don’t fall behind me.”

He turned away too fast,
but the tremble in his jaw wasn’t anger.

Lyra placed the bracelet onto my wrist.

Lyra:

“Promise… if you start falling,
let me be the one to catch you.”

Me — no sarcasm this time:

“Only if you don’t let go first.”

Lyra (inner):

“Why does his smile look like he’s hiding bruises only he can feel…
and why do I want to protect him even more?”

She looked away quickly — cheeks warm —
the kind of smile a girl makes when she tries not to fall deeper…
and fails anyway.

Kael stepped forward — lightning twitching across his knuckles.
Kael (inner, jaw tight):

“He was mine to surpass…
not hers to understand.”

Kael snapped:

“Lyra. We’re boarding.”

Lyra squeezed my hand — lingering —
until Kael gently pulled her away.

Lyra (voice shaking):

“You can fly…
but don’t fly away.”

Their carriage rose — twin flames trailing behind.
Brother and sister — fading into the clouds.

And for once — both afraid of the same thing:
losing me.

Act III — The One Who Watches

High above the palace domes…
a shadow crouched.

The Silent Phantom Commander.
The Eleventh Crown Oath Relic pulsing like a heartbeat caged in iron.

His gaze followed me — not with threat.
With… recognition.

Commander (whisper, amused + hungry):

“He goes to the flame…
Let’s see if Heaven can keep their fire from him.”

He vanished without sound.

But the chill he left behind stayed.

Act IV — Primordial Wound of Silence

The courtyard emptied.

Wind dragged leaves across marble, whispering secrets no ears should hear.

(Demon, a distorted whisper inside my skull:) “We finally found you… you are the one.”

I turned to follow the last of the carriages when

Every sound died.

Not faded. Deleted.

The world glitched — colors bending sideways, air pixelating like broken glass.

A presence pressed against my ribs from inside.

A wound made of hunger.

A voice slid into my skull, syllables chewing through thought:

“Seven Wounds… only one must bleed.”

My pulse spiked — Spark still sealed, silent.

No flame. No wind. No power.

Just me. Human. Breakable.

My breath hitched—then slid out of me.

Astral Disjunction — Unmoored Soul My spirit stepped forward without moving an inch; my body stayed where it stood: eyes open, chest rising, empty.

(Corridor edge — Hakuya felt it. A pressure-drop, a winter-cold threaded through silk.)

 “Master Haise?” he called, stepping into the courtyard threshold, hand on blade.

My body didn’t turn. Didn’t blink.

Hakuya’s pupils narrowed. A ward sigil flickered in his palm—then smothered, as if someone pressed a finger to a candle. “Master…?”

The silence pressed back.

Something clawed at my spine — a demon in spiritual form, phasing through Heaven’s laws like smoke through fingers.

No flames. No corruption residue. No relic alarms.

For eight seconds, Heaven’s eyes closed. A buried device somewhere inside the spires damped the Solar Aegis’ sensory lattice—just enough to turn its sight into fog. And this thing knew the window.

(Because its existence is written outside Heaven’s law.)

Meaning:

It wasn’t supposed to exist here.

My knees went weak. My fingers wouldn’t answer. Panic clawed my throat while the world pretended to be normal.

I clenched my jaw, panic hissing between teeth.

Me (sarcastic inner): “Perfect. Demon attack with zero powers. Love the difficulty settings.”

I forced a breath, mind racing—

Control reality. Break the lie.

Think. No Aether. No chant. Break the rule that lets it hide. If I can’t burn it, I’ll deny the premise.

°Paradox Gesture — Unawakened Form°

I shut my eyes. Opened them.

The world inverted— gravity hiccuped— the demon rendered visible in fracture-light:

A twisted humanoid of bone and void, seven glowing cracks splitting its face.

It grinned — a tearing of its geometry.

Me (croaking): “Who… are you?”

We are the Wound that quiets gods,” it replied, voices layered like torn paper.

A Primordial Demon — Woundbearer.

It hissed:

“You are the wrong shape of destiny.”

It lunged — claws like dying stars.

I reacted — slower than fear wanted.

I raised my hand — Snap.

Space folded — and we fell into my Cosmic Dimension.

Stars blurred. Nebulae screamed.

The demon staggered—

“This… realm… obeys your blood?”

I threw a punch — galaxy dust spiraled into a beam.

The demon countered — a slash of black flame cutting laws instead of flesh. My dimension shuddered, walls glitching.

I stumbled, knee hitting starstone — breath ragged, panic spiking.

Me (snarling): “I am not dying powerless!”

It roared:

“Your existence fractures creation.”

I gritted my teeth—

“Good. Makes me hard to cage.”

But its strength kept rising — my ribs creaked — black fire eating light itself.

I was losing.

My pulse screamed—

Awaken.

The cut of its black fire wasn’t heat—it was erasure. My shoulder buckled; stars bled out of my stance. Every block felt one beat too late.

I seized its throat — felt the Spark snap awake—

Chronicle Absorption — Initiated Violet-gold circuits crawled over its form.

Almost— Almost—

The demon ripped itself apart, body unraveling into splitting equations.

With its last shred of malice—

It infected me.

New data burned into my vision:

WOUND ONE — “SILENCE” (The first of Seven) Status: Dormant. Spreading.

The demon laughed without sound—

“You absorbed a Wound… Your fall… begins.”

Then it escaped — hurling itself through a tear in my own universe.

Gone. Without a trace Heaven could detect.

Not free, though—it spun out into the Otherbound Gyre, snagged in a dead-tide between realms, half-sealed by my Dimension’s aftershock.

I collapsed onto marble again — gasping—

The world stitched. My spirit slid back into bone—hard enough to rattle teeth.

“Master Haise.” Hakuya’s voice cut the air—calm on the surface, blade-quiet underneath. He stood two steps away now, eyes on my face, measuring breaths.

I blinked. Forced a twitch of a smile. “Zoned out.”

Me (inner, terrified):
“If I lose control… will I still be me?”

His gaze lingered one heartbeat too long. Then he bowed a fraction. “Understood.” The word did not mean belief.

No alarms. No guardians. No witnesses.

Just me.

And a corruption Heaven would never believe.

“How did it get in…?”

And then— deep in the palace… a machine hummed.

Someone shut off Heaven’s relic-detection systems for exactly 8 seconds.

Just enough to let the demon inside.

Silence swallowed the truth.

Act V — Goodbye Beneath the Stars

My carriage waited alone — floating slightly above the marble steps.

Hakuya stood behind me — silent, steady —
like he’d catch me if I stumbled.

Before I climbed in, two silhouettes approached 
the only two souls Heaven calls divine
but I just call parents.

Tenjin’s cloak brushed the wind first —
not as a king weighed by crowns,
but a father memorizing his son.

Tenjin (calm, powerful, reassuring):

“Your power is not a threat…
It is a promise.
Not to rule over others—
but to protect the ones who believe in you.”

Tenjin’s eyes narrowed — a flicker of stormlight beneath calm:

“The air trembles tonight…
as if it already knows you’ll change everything.”

“If fear rises in their eyes…
let your courage rise higher.”

Tenjin (soft smile):

“Remember this, Haise—
the sky does not give you permission to fly.
You fly because you were born to.”

My chest clenched — too full to breathe.

Then Mother stepped forward, tears glimmering but smile steady:

Yumi (brave, loving):

“Come back every time you feel lost…
or don’t feel lost at all.
I want all of your tomorrows — messy or magnificent.”

She wrapped me in a hug so tight
I forgot Heaven ever feared me.

Me (voice tiny):

“I’ll come back. To you.
Always.”

They didn’t let go until the attendant coughed —
and even then, reluctance was written in their fingers.

I stepped into the carriage —
but as doors closed—

Yumi waved fiercely through tears.
Tenjin raised his fist to his heart —
a warrior’s salute softened by a father’s pride.

I pressed my palm to the glass —
and waved back.

Me (inner whisper):

“I’ll make you proud.
And I’ll come home alive.”

Clouds consumed their silhouettes
but their love stayed loud.

END