kweenjaded

For as long as the stars have burned, she has existed. She has been called many names—Gaia, Lilith, the First, the Eternal Witness—but time has eroded meaning, leaving only silence. When the sun finally devoured itself and Earth drifted into the abyss, she closed her eyes, expecting oblivion.

But she did not die.

Eons passed, and Earth—no longer Earth—was reborn in a distant galaxy, reshaped by her unconscious will. Now a training ground for civilizations across the cosmos, the planet teems with life once more. And she, no longer Lilith yet not fully something else, awakens in a body that is hers but unfamiliar. She knows everything yet feels nothing. Memories exist as echoes, not experiences.

When a young explorer, Tilana, stumbles upon her, she is given a name—Lily—a word tied to a flower that no longer exists. As Lily navigates a world both familiar and alien, she must relearn what it means to feel, to connect, and to exist. But something lingers in the depths of this reborn world, something that calls to the remnants of who she was.

To see tomorrow, one must kill yesterday. But what if yesterday refuses to die?.

Lily: The last lily of a forgotten world.

"The fate of destruction is also the joy of rebirth."he Blade at His throat

Zane always assumed betrayal would come with more warning.

A hesitation. A flicker of guilt. A moment of doubt before the knife was buried between his ribs.

Instead, it had come with a smile.

And that was the part that pissed him off the most.

Two weeks after Lily broke him out of prison, he was still trying to piece together the how and why of it all. She hadn't explained, hadn't justified it—just done it.

And now, because of her, he had trusted the wrong person.

His arm was still bleeding when he stumbled through the threshold of the safehouse, hands pressed against the wound.

The first mistake was assuming the door being unlocked was a sign of safety.

The second mistake was letting his guard down.

He didn't see the betrayal coming.

One moment, his friend was helping him bandage his arm, hands steady, voice calm.

The knife went in clean. Right between the ribs. A surgical strike.

Not deep enough to kill immediately.

Deep enough to make him stay down.

The look in his friend's eyes wasn't regret.

And Zane was left there—bleeding out, alone, abandoned.

Somehow, the irony of it made him laugh.

He must have blacked out at some point.

Because the next thing he knew, someone else was there.

A shadow, a presence—not quite human, not entirely unfamiliar.

The voice came smooth. Inevitable.

The blade at his throat never wavered.

The first thing he noticed was the blood.

She was watching him. Not with concern, not with relief—but with the careful, clinical gaze of someone observing a rare specimen.

Like she was waiting for something.

Like she was : The Blwaiting to see what he had become.

As though the wounds had never been there at all.

As though he had never been dying in the first place.

Arc 2 Chapter 3 : The Bladed At His Throat