The power of the full moon had finally faded.Adrian was once again dragged back into the cold, frail body of an infant, without the slightest mercy.
He curled up on the small altar, helpless and still, as if imprisoned in the stillness of stagnant water.Yet this time, he clung to a thread of hope.
As long as Liveta exposed that impostor, as long as she came to him, everything might still be saved.
And so, he waited in silence.
On the first day, he focused all his strength, listening to every faint sound within and beyond the chapel. Each creak of the hinges sent his soul trembling with expectation.On the second day, he grew restless, praying over and over in his mind. Though he had no voice, he whispered her name within himself, believing that if he repeated it with enough devotion, she would appear.On the third day, his soul felt as though it had cracked open into a thousand fine lines, each one aching for a final glimmer of light.
But still—
Nothing.
The world remained as silent as the grave.
Just when he felt himself slipping into madness, the door creaked open.
Adrian's soul jolted violently.Was it her? Was it Liveta?
He could hardly believe his hope was finally coming true.
But the one who stepped through the threshold wore a familiar yet foreign face—his own.Clothed in his robes, wearing his smile, but with every inch of his posture dripping with Arthur's chill and malice.
Arthur strode up to the altar and looked down at him, like a hunter examining the prey he had cornered.A mocking smile curled at the corner of his lips.
"Still waiting for her?" Arthur chuckled, his voice full of contempt and cruelty. "Poor thing. You actually believed Liveta would come save you?"
Adrian screamed her name within his soul, calling her with all his might.
She will come. She must come.
Arthur leaned in, as if he had heard that voiceless plea, and said with deliberate gentleness,
"Have you forgotten? I'm her husband now.I'm the one who holds her at night. I'm the one who kisses her forehead. I'm the one who falls asleep to the sound of her heartbeat.And you? You're nothing but a pitiful corpse, rotting away in a forgotten box."
Adrian's soul trembled with fury and anguish. Each word sliced into him like a poisoned blade, flaying what was left of his hope.
He tried with all his strength to break free, to shatter the invisible chains that bound him, but all his effort was like a whisper in a storm—completely futile.
Arthur straightened up and began to pace, his voice slow and cruel.
"Surprised, aren't you? Wondering why she hasn't come to rescue you?"He turned, his gaze as sharp as ice. "Don't worry. I didn't force her. She chose me herself."
Adrian felt as if he had been hurled from the heavens and smashed into the deepest pit. His soul shattered silently in the abyss.
Arthur stepped closer, his tone sharp with mockery.
"After all, what woman would choose a short-tempered, violent man?Compared to you, I am a hundred times more gentle and considerate."
Adrian wanted to scream, to lash out, to claw that traitor's face apart.But he could do nothing.He was no more than a broken puppet, nailed to the cold, forgotten altar.
Arthur looked down, then delivered the final blow.
"Stop struggling. The Crown of Losanne has been returned to the chapel.From now on, you'll remain here. Forever."
He turned and walked away, his steps light, as if heading off to a feast celebrating his triumph.
The door creaked shut behind him.And once more, the endless darkness swallowed Adrian whole.
——
Time passed, though he could no longer tell how long.
Then came the sound of footsteps.Soft. Hesitant.
The door opened.
In that instant, Adrian's soul stirred again.
It was her.It was Liveta.
She had come.
She wore a plain white gown. Her face was pale. Her eyes were red and swollen. She held a small bouquet of white flowers in her trembling hands.
She walked toward the altar as if stepping over a field of thorns.Then she stopped, standing before him in silence, gazing at him with tear-filled eyes.
Her tears fell, one after another, soaking the front of her dress.
Her voice was fragile and unsteady when she finally spoke.
"I'm sorry… Adrian… please forgive me…"
Adrian screamed her name within his soul.He summoned every last ounce of strength, begging to lift a hand, to cry out—
"Liveta. Don't go. Don't leave me here."
But his body did not respond.His lips did not move.
Liveta reached into her robe and pulled out something familiar.
It was the crystal pendant.
Her fingers trembled as she fastened the necklace around the infant's pale, frail neck.
Bowing her head, she sobbed in choked whispers.
"Forgive me… I… I truly am sorry."
Then she covered her mouth, turned, and fled the room with pain and despair etched into her every movement.
The door closed behind her.And in that moment, Adrian's heart crumbled into dust.
Cracks spread across his soul like frost on glass, splintering deeper and deeper.
He had been abandoned completely—By the brother he once pitied,By the woman he thought loved him.
There was no sound here.No light.No hope.
Only endless, soul-consuming darkness that dragged him down, deeper and deeper.
He tried to scream, but no sound came.He tried to move, but he could not.He tried to hate, but he no longer had the strength.
Then—
The crystal pendant around his neck stirred faintly.
A soft blue light began to flow from within.
That glow, gentle and ancient, shimmered like a call from the stars.It spread slowly, casting a dreamlike blue hue across the entire chamber.
Adrian's soul was enveloped by the light and began to drift into a profound, shadowless silence.
——
On the bustling streets of New York, traffic flowed steadily.
A young woman stood quietly by the crosswalk, her gaze following a pair of lively twin boys skipping ahead of her.
The wind lifted the sketchpad in her hand.
On the page was a portrait of twin brothers, identical in every detail.
She lowered her head and smiled faintly.
The Twins' story—ended.