Page 114 of Fallen: Darkness Ascending, Vol.1

Epilogue

SOLARETH

T his place—this paradise —is mine.

I can feel the power pulsing through every inch of it.

The air is thick with fragrance, the sky a deep, warm twilight that stretches infinitely in every direction.

The garden, lush and vibrant, sprawls around us in perfect symmetry.

The colors are rich, dazzling. Every flower blooms with such intensity that it almost seems too much for the mortal eye to take in.

The grass beneath my feet is impossibly soft, and the scent of jasmine and rose lingers, intoxicating. It is everything she wanted—everything she needed .

I watch her with amusement as she looks around, her wide eyes darting from one corner of the garden to the next.

She doesn’t yet understand, but I can see the confusion flicker in her gaze.

I can hear the whispers in her mind, the rising panic that churns beneath the surface of her thoughts.

She’s lost—mentally, spiritually, physically—trapped in the cocoon of her own fractured reality.

And I find it delightful .

“This is paradise, angelica.” I say the words with a twisted smile, watching her closely. My wings sweep gently behind me as I step toward her. “A place where you can finally breathe. No more chains. No more burdens. Just us.”

She shivers. I know she doesn’t want to believe it, doesn’t want to accept it. But she will. Eventually, she’ll see it as I see it.

After all, it’s her fault.

Her eyes are wild, darting around as she tries to make sense of her surroundings. She doesn’t know what to do, where to go. I don’t need to say anything more for now.

She will understand .

I stand beside her, letting the silence stretch between us.

I see her lips moving, but there is no sound.

I hear her thoughts, the cracks in her mind beginning to form as she struggles to break free of the web she’s woven for both of us.

She’s still fighting, still holding on to whatever remains of her humanity.

But that will fade, as most things inevitably do.

“Do you find beauty here?” I ask with a grin, letting my voice drip with honey. Almost as sinfully beautiful as her wickedness.“You’ll forget the world soon enough. You’ll forget them .”

I let my gaze linger on her, watching her tremble beneath my touch as I reach out and guide her closer to the heart of the garden.

“It seems you got what you sought out to do… you and I. Together, at last. No one else matters.” My words settle cancerously in her veins, the subtle insinuations sliding into her thoughts, one after another.

The garden around us shifts—almost imperceptibly at first. The colors deepen, the flowers grow more twisted, their petals once too perfect, too symmetrical. The grass begins to feel thicker, harder, almost like it’s pulling at her feet. Sinking her in, ever deeper.

Her breath quickens as she begins to notice the decay , the subtle change in the air as her mind’s illusion begins to fade.

But I don’t mind. I’ve spent countless centuries here. Her reaction amuses me.

“You’re starting to see it, aren’t you?” I murmur, my voice soft as I press closer. “How perfect it can be. The harmony. The unity. Everything we could ever need, right here.”

It’s all a lie, but she doesn’t need to know that yet. She turns toward me, her face a mask of terror and confusion. But she doesn’t pull away. I know she wants to, but she never does.

I begin to walk with her, leading her through the garden, my steps deliberate, my presence overwhelming. Every step I take leaves a trace of flame in the ground, the earth beneath my feet turning black and ashen, slowly consuming the beauty around us.

I can feel the tempered power gathering. It’s growing stronger by the minute. I will leave this place. I will escape— with her .

As I guide her deeper into the garden, I can’t help but laugh, the sound echoing through the air.

The village, the world—they are blind, aren’t they?

How easily they fall for the lies they tell themselves.

They think the curse is broken, that the dark days are behind them.

The chapel rebuilt. The rumors of my return forgotten. They believe they are safe.

Fools.

They have no idea what they’ve unleashed.

The cults are already growing, even now. The whispers have spread. The new followers are already at the edges of the human realm, gathering, preparing for what’s to come. I can feel the veil thinning.

They will bow to me. And soon, they will all see the truth, just as Mayang will—just as she already has.

She is the one who will carry this truth forward. She will bear it on her shoulders whether she realizes it or not. My will. My blood. My legacy .

She paints me as the villain, blinded to the truth that I’ve always been her salvation. My hand glides over her still-flat stomach, owning it with a possessive confidence.

This is just another move in the game—one she’s destined to lose.

Soon enough, she’ll see me exactly as I am—the one who controls everything.

We stop walking. The garden—this hellscape—shifts and grows more twisted with every passing moment.

The twisted flowers around us continue to rot, now glowing with a sickly hue.

The air, once thick with sweetness, is now filled with the heavy scent of decay.

The warmth of the garden has long since vanished, replaced by an oppressive cold that seems to seep into the marrow of her bones.

I run a hand through her hair, my touch soft, almost comforting. But I know it won’t be long before she realizes the truth of what happened, how she cursed us both in eternal imprisonment.

Time here refuses to obey any rules. It’s woven into the curse itself—pulling prisoners ever closer to inevitable madness, if they don’t hold on tight.

And then, in the distance, through the thinning of the veil, I see it.

A small child, sitting on the ground, hunched over, hands stained with charcoal. The child is focused, intent on their task. Drawing something in the dirt.

An angel. With wings of fire. And a familiar sigil.

I throw my head back, laughing—a sharp, cruel sound that rattles through the shadow-thick garden, my arms still clutching my angelica tight.

The child? Ignorant, blissfully unaware. They know nothing of the darkness they’ve unleashed.

But I do. Oh, I do.

And soon, the world will learn… from the ashes of a morning star, ghostfire will awaken, smothering whispered sins in silent, seething flames of reckoning.