NOX' blindfold shifted toward the girl and her mother, who slowly fluttered her eyes open. Though the curse had been dispelled, the damage remained—her body was still frail, her skin like parchment stretched over brittle bones.
NOX sighed and waved his hand. A surge of energy washed over her, restoring what had been lost.
The girl's breath caught as she watched her mother change before her eyes—color returned to her cheeks, her sunken frame filled out, and her breathing steadied.
Tears welled in the girl's eyes as she clutched her mother's hand. "…Mom?"
Her mother's fingers twitched, then slowly, weakly, squeezed back.
NOX stepped outside, leaving mother and daughter to their long-overdue reunion. He had no place in that moment—no reason to linger and make things awkward.
The sky had begun its slow descent into evening, the deep hues of dusk painting the slums in muted gold and violet. As he walked through the streets, he spotted an old bench outside a shuttered shop and took a seat.
There, in the quiet, he let his mind settle. He reviewed every choice he had made today—the people he had judged, the enemies he had provoked, the girl he had decided to take under his wing. There would be consequences. There always were.
Time passed.
The sound of soft footsteps pulled NOX from his thoughts. The girl and her mother approached, their expressions lighter, as if a great weight had been lifted. They must have spoken, let their emotions spill after being apart for so long.
NOX's blindfolded gaze swept over them. The girl was no longer the pitiful, dirt-streaked child he had first seen—she had cleaned up, looking more like the strong-willed child he remembered.
His gaze shifted to her mother. The frail, dying woman was gone. In her place stood someone who radiated quiet strength, the traces of her once-heroic presence returning.
She now wore a deep violet silk robe, embroidered with faint constellations that shimmered under the dim light. Her long black hair, cascading down her back, reflected an almost celestial glow, and her starry silver eyes held the depth of a sky untouched by time.
Vivienne Stardust stood tall, her expression composed yet guarded. She bowed slightly, her voice measured.
"I owe you my life… and my daughter's." Her sharp gaze studied NOX as she continued, "I do not know how I should repay this, but I, Vivienne Stardust, will not forget this debt."
Her tone carried both gratitude and wariness.
She wouldn't be naïve. Just because this young man had saved her didn't mean he was a good person. Nor could she rule out the possibility of ulterior motives.
And more importantly, she refused to throw herself into the tired trope of swearing undying loyalty to a stranger—especially when her choices now implicated her daughter as well.
NOX remained seated, his expression unreadable beneath the blindfold. He did not bow in return, nor did he acknowledge the weight of her gratitude. His response was as detached as ever.
"No need for repayment."
Vivienne's lips pressed into a thin line. His cold indifference only deepened her wariness.
No one helps for free. No one saves others out of kindness.
She turned slightly, placing a protective hand on her daughter's shoulder. "And this is my daughter, Lyra Stardust… though I believe you are already acquainted."
Lyra, now clutching the edge of her mother's robe, peeked her head out cautiously. Curiosity flickering in her eyes.
It was almost amusing—normally, people matured with hardship, but Lyra seemed to be regressing in the best way possible. A few hours ago, she had been too composed for a child, carrying the weight of survival alone. But now, she was behaving like a proper six-year-old, clinging to her mother with small, hesitant movements.
NOX tilted his head slightly toward her. Lyra instinctively shrank back, retreating behind her mother.
A quiet chuckle escaped from NOX. She was still a child after all. He was relieved.
"So... you're hiding from me now?" He teased her.
Lyra peeked out again, her cheeks puffed indignantly.
"I never thought someone as proud as Lyra Stardust would someday default on a life-saving debt," NOX continued, his voice laced with feigned disappointment.
At this, Lyra immediately stepped out from behind her mother, her face red with flustered protest. "I—I'm not hiding!" Her voice wavered, but she squared her shoulders, trying to appear fierce.
"…I just didn't want to leave my mom alone."
The words slipped out in a quieter tone, revealing the real reason behind her hesitation.
Vivienne stiffened, instantly alarmed. She turned to Lyra, gripping her shoulders firmly.
"What are you talking about?" Her voice was sharp, controlled. But the tension in her fingers betrayed her unease.
Lyra hesitated.
Vivienne's expression darkened. "Did you make a deal with him?"
Lyra flinched at the question.
She averted her eyes, suddenly interested in scuffing her boot against the dirt ground.
Her silence spoke volumes.
Vivienne's stomach twisted. Anger flared—not at Lyra, but at herself. How much had this child gone through? What kind of world had forced her to make deals just to survive?
She exhaled slowly, forcing herself to soften. Lyra looked like she was barely holding back tears, her small hands clenched tightly.
Vivienne released her grip and pulled Lyra into a gentle embrace.
"It's all right! You did nothing wrong." She whispered.
Lyra trembled but nodded, pressing her face into her mother's shoulder.
Vivienne held her close for a moment before straightening, her composure settling back into place. She turned to NOX, standing firm.
"I don't know what kind of deal my daughter made, but..." She took a steadying breath. "Can I take her place in repaying this debt?"
NOX remained silent, yet Vivienne could feel his gaze on her—blindfolded, yet piercing. For the first time since their meeting, she had the distinct sensation of being truly seen. Not just her body, but her essence, exposed under an unseen scrutiny.
A weighty silence stretched between them.
Her offer was clear—she would take her daughter's place in whatever bargain had been struck. As a Rank 6 Awakener barely a century old, her rapid ascent spoke volumes of her talent. An average individual would need over a thousand years to reach Rank 7.
Even Lucas, the most gifted in his past life, had taken nearly two centuries.
By all logic, NOX should accept. Any rational person would bet on her talent and strength rather than a six-year-old child.
Yet, as Vivienne studied NOX, she found no reaction. His posture remained relaxed, unshaken, as if her strength and potential meant nothing to his plans.
The realization sent a chill through her. Whatever NOX intended for Lyra, it was beyond anything she had accounted for. Her unease deepened.
Taking a measured breath, Vivienne shifted tactics.
"Very well." She straightened. "If repayment is necessary, then I offer you this—"
Lifting her hand, she conjured a small, luminous orb of astral energy. It pulsed like a newborn star, a quiet hum resonating through the air—attuned to the very fabric of the cosmos.
"The Eternal Stardust Scripture."
The moment the words left her lips, the air itself seemed to shift.
Lyra's grip on her mother's sleeve tightened, her wide eyes betraying her shock. Vivienne's expression remained firm, but tension coiled beneath her composed exterior. This was the most sacred secret of the Stardust lineage—a technique reserved only for those of direct descent.
It was no ordinary scripture.
The Eternal Stardust Scripture allowed an Awakener to refine their body, transforming each cell into a miniature star—a self-sustaining source of energy, endlessly burning, endlessly thriving. Practitioners could achieve near-immortality, their bodies resilient enough to endure cosmic storms, astral collapse, even divine tribulations. This was the pinnacle of her clan's lost legacy.
Throughout history, countless powerhouses had sought it, yet even those responsible for the Stardust Clan's downfall had failed to claim it.
And yet—
"Ah." NOX let out a soft breath. Not a gasp of surprise. Not an exclamation of awe.
Just… a neutral, almost dismissive, acknowledgment.
Vivienne's fingers clenched slightly.
NOX already knew this technique.
In his past life, Lyra had entrusted it to him without hesitation, fearing that if something happened to her, the lineage's legacy would die with her. She had asked him to pass it on to someone worthy, and so he had long since understood its every detail.
NOX spoke, his tone almost casual. "So that's what it is… A technique that refines one's body into a constellation of living stars. A fascinating concept." He nodded slightly. "I see the ingenuity behind it. A method of turning each cell into an independent celestial furnace… Not bad. It ensures constant regeneration, providing near-immortality to those who master it."
Vivienne exhaled slowly. She had expected as much—someone like him would, of course, understand the foundation of the scripture instantly. But what she hadn't expected was what followed.
"…However." NOX tilted his head slightly, as if weighing his words. "It's ultimately… flawed."
Vivienne's entire body tensed as her breath hitched. Flawed? She clenched her teeth, resisting the urge to snap back. She wasn't foolish—she wouldn't let emotions cloud her reason. But flawed? Did he even understand what he was saying?
She had been raised on this scripture. Her clan had bled for this scripture. Every ancestor of the Stardust lineage had refined it, perfected it, carved its principles into their very souls. It was the culmination of generations.
And yet, this man—this stranger—had dismissed it in an instant?
"The concept of condensing stellar essence into one's cells is clever—transforming the body into a living constellation, always burning, always thriving. However, the core issue is painfully obvious." NOX's tone remained mild, even thoughtful. "In the end, it is still just fuel."
Vivienne's heartbeat quickened.
"Stars may burn for eons, but eventually, even they collapse. The greater the brilliance, the greater the cost. The process of turning cells into miniature stars does not create infinite energy—it merely extends the lifespan of the fuel." His voice carried no malice, no arrogance. Just plain, indifferent analysis.
"This scripture does not defy mortality. It only postpones it."
Vivienne felt her blood run cold. But NOX wasn't finished.
"More than that," he continued, "this technique locks its user into a single evolutionary path. By turning your very cells into stars, you force your existence into a predetermined cycle—burn, shine, fade. Your body may be resilient, your life extended beyond normal comprehension, but there is no room for further ascension.
A star... remains a star."
Vivienne's fingers curled into fists. She wanted to deny it, to reject it, to claim that he was wrong. But deep down, she knew he wasn't. She had never dared to voice it before, had never dared to question the foundation of her lineage's greatest treasure. But somewhere, in the furthest corners of her mind, she had always feared the truth.
Her ancestors, the mighty warriors of the Stardust Clan, they had all perished despite their strength, despite their longevity. Not one of them had ever truly ascended beyond their limits because their limits had been set from the beginning.
And now, NOX had stripped that truth bare in mere moments.
Vivienne's gaze locked onto him as her wariness deepened. This was no ordinary genius, no mere prodigy with an exceptional mind. He was something else entirely. It wasn't just that he had understood the scripture. He had understood its fatal weakness without fault. And that meant something far more terrifying—he had seen techniques far more superior to it.
She suppressed the urge to swallow, keeping her voice steady as she finally asked the question that clawed at the back of her mind.
"…Then what do you truly want from us?"