Chapter 1: The Girl Who Burned the Sky

The sky over Duskmoor Village was bleeding.

Crimson clouds swirled above scorched rooftops, and smoke curled like grasping hands from shattered homes. Screams echoed down dirt paths, mixing with the crackling of fire and the low hum of collapsing magic barriers. The guards were already dead. The villagers—most of them—were either running or burning.

At the edge of the chaos, a child stood barefoot on scorched earth, her arms trembling, her breath shallow.

She was eight years old.

Her name was Astra.

And she had just watched her mother die.

Flames painted the night, but none of them touched her. The air around her shimmered with unnatural stillness, as though the world itself had paused to watch what would come next.

Astra blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. Not because she wasn't sad—she was—but because her mother had told her once: "When the sky burns, don't look down. Look ahead. Look at what you'll become."

She hadn't understood then.

She did now.

From the ruins behind her, a masked man stepped forward. One of the rogue mages who had attacked the village in search of her parents' forbidden research. Blood stained his cloak, and his eyes gleamed with hunger.

"There you are," he snarled, lifting his hand. A rune circle formed above it. "You're just a kid. Hand over the book."

book."

Book?

Astra didn't have one.

Not yet.

But something—someone—had heard her grief.

The world around her pulsed. Light broke from the heavens in a spear of blinding violet. Wind howled. The fire recoiled.

And in front of her—floating, spinning, glowing—was a grimoire.

Not a three-leaf.

Not a four-leaf.

Not even a five.

A seven-leaf grimoire, its cover black as night, its insignia a silver rose bleeding light from the seams. The man stared at it in horror.

"That—That's impossible—"

The pages turned of their own accord.

Astra raised her hand.

Her voice was calm. Empty.

"Stellamortis: Black Star Bloom."

The earth split as a spiral of starlight erupted from the grimoire, twisting into a blossom of obsidian petals that cut through the man's magic like paper.

And then he was gone.

Nothing left but a shimmer of ash.

When the Clover Kingdom's emergency mages finally arrived hours later, they found a crater where Duskmoor once stood. Dozens of corpses, frozen mid-run. Buildings shattered by raw energy. Mana residue that didn't make sense.

And in the center of it all, standing unharmed among the ruins…

A girl with violet eyes.

Holding a closed book in her hands.

Nine Years Later...

"Oi, Yami! Who the hell is the dark-and-brooding statue outside the hideout?"

Yami Sukehiro barely looked up from his newspaper. "New recruit. Special case."

"Special how?" Luck asked, eyes gleaming.

"She turned a mountain range into a valley when a Spade spy tried to assassinate her."

The room went quiet.

"Captain," Noelle said slowly, crossing her arms. "You let a ticking magical bomb join our squad?"

Yami grinned. "She's stronger than me."

"What?!" That was Asta.

Yami pointed a thumb outside. "Go introduce yourselves. And try not to piss her off."

The Bulls hesitated. Not because they were cowards—but because they felt her mana. Heavy. Like stardust and gravity compressed into a girl's body. She stood at the edge of the field, back straight, long black hair flowing with an unnatural weight. Her grimoire hovered at her side, unopened but glowing faintly.

Noelle narrowed her eyes.

"I'll go."

Outside, the wind shifted as Noelle approached. She activated her mana skin out of habit. Just in case.

The girl didn't turn.

"...You're Noelle Silva."

The voice was soft. Deep. Measured.

"And you are?" Noelle asked coolly.

"Astra Nocturne. Seventh-Leaf Grimoire."

Noelle blinked. "That doesn't exist."

"It does now."

A beat passed.

"Why the Black Bulls?"

Astra finally turned. Her eyes were violet, unreadable. Her face calm, almost emotionless.

"I was told it was the one place where monsters are accepted."

Noelle flinched, but said nothing.

Astra tilted her head. "You hide your heart behind pride. But you have power. And pain."

"What is that supposed to—"

"You'll learn to control it. I did."

The silence between them crackled with unspoken tension.

Then Astra said something unexpected.

"I'd like to train with you. If you're willing."

Noelle stared.

No one ever asked to train with her. They assumed, challenged, or avoided her. But this girl—this anomaly—was offering... trust?

"Fine," Noelle said finally. "But don't hold back."

Astra smiled.

"I never do."

Later That Night...

Astra stood alone outside the Black Bulls' base, looking up at the stars.

She missed her mother's voice. Missed silence without suspicion. Peace without pressure.

She could feel the grimoire pulsing at her side. A reminder. A gift. A curse.

"You did good today," Yami said, stepping up beside her with a cigarette in hand.

"I didn't do anything."

"You didn't blow anything up. That's something."

She huffed a small laugh. It was the first time someone made her laugh in years.

Yami looked at her seriously.

"You're strong. Too strong, maybe. But strength doesn't mean much without people to hold onto."

She said nothing.

"You'll find your place. Just... don't burn it down."

Astra nodded.

"I'll try."

Far away, beneath the Spade Kingdom ruins, a silver-haired woman stared into a black mirror.

Selene Nocturne.

Her smile was wide. Cold. Beautiful.

"She's awakened."

Behind her, shadows whispered.

"The Eclipse is coming. And with it—rebirth."