"Master, the rain is heavy. Please return."
"Leave the scene to us."
Anming raised his eyes, seeing only neon lights blurred by the downpour. Penacony—so dazzling, yet so cruel to a girl who just wanted to survive with her mother.
Not all birds are meant to fly, are they?
Gently, he closed Ena's eyes. His face was numb, unfeeling, as the rain soaked through his coat.
Is this freedom?
Harmony… or Order. In the end, they were no different.
The gods would never glance at mortals. They would never pity those drowning in the rain.
The sky was a distant paradise. The ground, a ceaseless abyss.
The downpour blurred all—opulence and ruin—into trembling reflections in puddles, shattered by each raindrop's ripple.
So this is how it is.
Once again, he had changed nothing.
This time, it was Ena. Who would it be next? How much more could he lose?
A black umbrella shielded him from the rain. Robin stepped beside him, her voice soft. "I've contacted the funeral home." She knew Anming needed solitude, yet she stayed.
"Thank you..."
"You don't have to thank me."
Robin gazed at the distant screens, murmuring, "How far are we… from the paradise we dreamed of?"
She could be a superstar, yet she couldn't save everyone. One person's strength was too small—fighting the world's rules was nothing but delusion.
Silent, Anming watched as Ena bid farewell to this world.
"Robin."
"Hm?"
"You once said… people die three times."
"As long as we remember, Miss Ena will never truly disappear." Robin tightened her grip on Anming's icy hand. The Oak Family head radiated something terrifying.
"The Planet of Festivities. The Land of Dreams."
The halo above Anming's head flickered violently before stilling. He sent Robin home in a car, then left with the funeral procession.
Ena's body was beyond restoration. In the end, Anming chose cremation.
Through the flames, he saw it again—the ruins of the once-glorian Celestial Rings, reduced to nothing after the Stellaron's calamity.
Now, only ashes remained.
He could recreate Ena from memory. But this world was too cruel. She wouldn't want to return.
Not yet.
When he forged a new Eden—a world without sorrow—then he would bring her back.
For now… sleep well.
Anming would remember her. That way, she would never truly be gone.
Dawn broke through the funeral home's windows. Penacony welcomed a new day, unaware that a girl named Ena had lost all hope in the night.
The world moved on, indifferent.
Anming stared into the sunlight. It hurt his eyes.
Harmony or Order—it didn't matter. He would create his own Eden. There would never be another "Ena."
As the Oak Family's head, he held power in Penacony. Now, it was time to wield it.
Time to change the world.
Cradling Ena's urn, he stepped into the light.
Golden strands glowed under the sun. Black wings cast shadows as he looked skyward—at the birds who could never fly.
Penacony is the Land of Dreams.
But whose dreams does it fulfill?
The Golden Hour
The tiny key fit snugly in his palm. This small room was all Ena had left behind—her only mark on this dreamland.
Countless times, Anming had come here seeking inspiration. Each time, Ena would greet him with her beloved guitar, perched by the window, strumming melodies to the kaleidoscope outside.
"The world kisses me with pain, yet I sing back."
The white-haired girl had smiled. "Philosophical, right? My mom told me that."
She had so little happiness—yet even that was stolen.
The key turned. The familiar room unfolded.
Ena's favorite secondhand couch, where she'd lounge with a pillow, claiming it was comfier than any bed.
A modest single bed. A wooden desk by the window, stacked with books—read or unread, who knew?
And that small window.
Outside—the eternally frozen Golden Hour, a paradise of dreams.
Inside—a life unchanging, a reality shattered, a place of silent tears.
What did Ena feel, gazing out? Did she ever glimpse the sky?
He sank into her couch and unfolded the letter left for him.
To Anming, my dearest friend,
(He could almost see her—window open, Robin's song drifting in as she wrote.)
I'm sorry. If you're reading this, I'm already gone.
You're too kind, Anming. You'll grieve for so long… so I had to apologize first.
I just lost my reason to live. It's so, so exhausting. People say suffering comes before joy—did meeting you use up all my happiness?
But… fate let me meet you, yet never gave me the right to love you. If only we'd met sooner, could I have loved you openly?
If there's a next life… let's meet again.
Next time, I'll find you first!
The key is yours now. When you're sad, come here. I'll listen.
Oh—that song's unfinished. But you'll complete it, I know.
One last thing… listen carefully.
Anming, I love you.
See you in the next life.
The letter wasn't long, yet every word breathed acceptance. This world had nothing left for Ena—not even a place beside Anming.
So she let go.
And flew to her own sky.
Leaning back, Anming closed his eyes. For a moment, he was back in that warm rainy night—
Ena by the window, guitar in hand, humming her unfinished tune.
"Don't wanna go~"
"When you say you're here for me~"
"Suddenly, I start to dream~"