The Superior Rebirth: A Hero's Awakening

After the Crown

Moscow, Grand Empire of Russia — Hours after the Inauguration
The throne room of the Ivanovich family had settled into a quieter kind of grandeur now that the ceremony was over — the roar of the crowds outside still audible through the stone walls, but distant, like thunder that had already passed.

Emperor Aleksander sat in the high throne with the ease of someone who had always been going to end up there. One fist rested against his left cheek, elbow propped on the armrest. His other hand held the Holy Grail — one of the three sacred Ethereal Instruments of the Ivanovich family, passed down since their founder — and he drank slowly from it, the blessed water within it resolving his hunger and thirst as it always did, quietly and completely.

Flanking the throne, unheld and unhurried, floated the other two Instruments: the Sword of Light, Zadkiel, and the Heavenly Lance, Seraphel — his personal favorite since he was old enough to have preferences. Both weapons drifted in a slow orbit beside him, radiating a low, steady divine energy that purified the air of the entire room without effort or ceremony.

"You look incredible up there, Big Brother," Xavier said, looking up at him with the open, unconcealed admiration that only younger siblings manage without embarrassment. "Grandpa's crown really suits you."

"Couldn't agree more," Violet said. "You look considerably more impressive than usual. More... kingly." A beat. "Which is saying something, since you always looked like you were about to declare something even when you were just standing in a hallway."

"Wouldn't you say so, Teslaine?"

Teslaine, who had been quietly absorbed in admiring the banquet spread across the long tables, startled and turned. "Y-yes," she said, flushing slightly. "Though I think what I mean to say is — the position suits you, Brother Aleksander. You've always carried this quality of... unspoken authority. Even when we first met. It only makes sense that people would look at you now, sitting where you're sitting, and feel it even more strongly."

Aleksander looked at the three of them — at Xavier's earnestness, at Violet's backhanded compliment delivered with complete sincerity, at Teslaine's flustered attempt at eloquence — and laughed. A genuine one, the kind that caught even him off guard a little.

"You three have a remarkable talent for making me lose my composure at exactly the wrong moments," he said. Then, more softly: "Thank you. All of you."

He let his gaze move across the room — to Graviil, to Anastasia, to Victoria. "I'm glad you're all proud of me. You especially, Grandfather. Though you've been quiet for a while now, which isn't like you. Is everything alright?"

Graviil — who was now, from this day forward, the retired Emperor of Russia, a fact he seemed to be sitting with in his own private way — said nothing for a moment. There was a smile on his face that he hadn't quite put there consciously, the kind that appears on its own when a feeling is too large for any particular expression. Pure pride. The kind that has no comparison point because nothing else has ever come close to producing it.

"Don't worry about me, Alek," he said at last. "I'm only admiring my heir." He shifted, with the unhurried manner of a man who had decided, finally, to stop carrying certain weights. "The only thing left for me now is to retire from this place — to find some quiet corner of the world and live out my remaining years alongside my dear Anastasia."

"But before that day comes — before my light finally ascends to the world above — there are things I wish to see." His eyes moved across the room, touching each of them in turn. "I wish to see Teslaine become the greatest inventor and scientist this world and universe will ever know. I wish to see Violet achieve her dream — to become a healer for those who cannot be healed by ordinary means, and the next leading saint of the Church of the Great Light. One who will bring great honor to the Highest Will's name."