Hypernova : A Sequel to Supernova

Episode 5.1 - An Era's End

The cathedral loomed like a silent sentinel against the gray, rain-drenched sky. Its towering spires pierced through the clouds, while the heavy wooden doors stood ajar, inviting a procession of mourners into the cavernous interior. Outside, the relentless rain fell in a steady rhythm, drenching the cobblestone path that led to the entrance. Puddles formed, mirroring the somber faces of the gathered crowd while the cameras flashed, their shutters blending into the cacophany of sounds as celebrities, dignitaries, and the curious press, all cloaked in shades of black, a moving sea of grief and glitz.

As Nine approached, the downpour intensified, the drops striking against his umbrella with an impatient hiss. He had chosen a simple yet elegant black suit, tailored perfectly to his form. His dark hair clung to his forehead, damp tendrils framing a face that wore an expression of quiet determination, though the tremor in his hands betrayed the turmoil within.

He hated funerals.

Each step felt heavier than the last, weighted by the collective sorrow of the day. The rain felt like a cleansing, washing away the glamour of celebrity, leaving behind the raw and vulnerable core of a shared loss. Yet, as Nine crossed the threshold into the cathedral, he held his head high, steeling himself against the flood of memories threatening to engulf him.

Inside, the atmosphere was electric yet suffocating, a tangled web of whispered condolences and muffled sobs. Soft candlelight flickered from the rows of pews, casting a warm glow against the polished wood and ornate carvings that adorned the walls.

The scent of lilies, thick and sweet, enveloped the air, mingling with the faint trace of incense that lingered like a memory of prayers long offered. The atmosphere felt charged, as if the very air were holding its breath in reverence and so Nine maneuvered through the clusters of people, their faces a blur of grief and support, until he found himself drawn to the front of the church.

There stood Jade, a striking figure amidst the somber crowd, radiating a composed beauty that seemed almost ethereal in the dim light. His skin glowed softly, and his hair fell perfectly around his face, framing those familiar features that Nine had come to know so well. But it was the red-rimmed eyes that tugged at Nine's heart, the evidence of unshed tears betraying the mask of poise Jade wore with such grace.

Beside Jade stood a woman, tall and elegant, with the same high cheekbones and delicate features that spoke of a shared lineage. Nine's breath caught; he assumed this was Jade's mother, her expression a blend of sorrow and fierce pride as she stood ramrod straight with her hands clasped before her.

Behind them, a large portrait of Jade's father hung prominently, a dignified headshot of a man Nine had never had the chance to see before now. The gentle curve of his smile hinted at kindness, his eyes twinkling with an unspoken warmth that seemed to reach beyond the canvas, pulling in all who dared to gaze upon it.

Nine felt a lump rise in his throat as he stood there,  the weight of his own memories crashing over him like waves. The mournful strains of a cello filled the air, wrapping around him like a shroud, a reminder of both the fragility of life and the strength found in love and connection. In that cathedral, amid the shadows and flickering lights, Nine's heart ached for Jade, in a very real way, understanding how difficult it was to lose a loved one.

While Nine's eyes were on Jade, a group approached. Nine's jaw tightened instinctively when he saw Jorah. Dressed in all black, he wore  a solemn expression as he greeted Jade with a warm embrace  speaking words that Nine could not hear from where he sat. Moving on from Jade, Nine watched as Jorah leaned in to kiss Jade's mother gently on the cheek, before squeezing her hands reassuringly as he offered muted words. Nine's pulse quickened, anger sparking just beneath the surface. The mere sight of Jorah reminding him of the issue that had been plaguing his heart for a little over a week. While the bitterness was sharp, he swallowed the fire of his emotions knowing now was not the time or place to confront it.