Far beyond the reach of the mortal world, in the glowing valleys and obsidian peaks of Pain's realm, a storm brewed - not in the skies, but in the heart of another.

Uri.

She had once danced in flame-lit halls beside Pain, her laugh echoing like chimes of war and passion. For centuries, she had stood by his side - through conquests, victories, and long stretches of silence. She was born of shadow and stardust, the kind who burned bright when noticed, and devoured when ignored.

But now, he saw only Elara.

Uri watched from the edge of the celebration, her violet eyes gleaming beneath her silver veil. The feast was in full swing - music echoed across the twisted cliffs of their world, and celestial fire danced around Pain and Elara as they stood at the center, their fingers intertwined.

Pain looked radiant. Elara, ethereal.

And Uri - forgotten.

She tightened her grip around the stem of her goblet. There was no hatred for Elara, not truly. But the ache of being replaced by a mortal - by someone so seemingly fragile - lit a furious longing inside her.

"You were mine," she whispered into the wind.

A servant bowed beside her, offering another drink. She waved it off. Her mind was elsewhere - trapped in memory. She remembered when Pain first taught her how to summon fire, how to speak the old tongue, how to become feared.

She remembered the way he looked at her, like she was the only one who understood his darkness.

Uri wasn't sure what hurt more - that he had changed, or that he hadn't waited.

In the shadows behind the throne, someone else watched her. Hate. His cruel smile curled beneath his cowl. He saw the pain in Uri's heart. And he intended to feed it.

"There's still a way," he murmured, his voice like silk woven with venom.

Uri didn't respond. But she didn't walk away either.

She kept her eyes on Pain.

And began to wonder.

Was love really worth this silence?

Or was it time to rewrite the ending?