This planet had no name. Gustav never bothered to give it one. It was a silent sphere of silver-blue and black soil and still, empty plains that stretched farther than any human eye could see. Above it was a sky that never change. It was a starless dusk of neither day nor night, hung like an eternal curtain. Nothing lived here. Nothing grew here. It was the only place in the universe stable enough to survive his uncontrolled presence because he created it for that very purpose. The ground did not crack beneath his feet. The air did not tear apart under his pressure. No gravitational storms waged when he breathed. Earth would never be able to withstand even ten minutes of him being there anymore unless he found a way to reduce his strength. And so he stayed here. For centuries. Alone. A man in a red long coat sat on a piece of pale rock shaped like a bench with elbows resting against his knees and head lowered. His dirty-blonde hair, longer than it once was, fell like a shadowed curtain against his cold expression. His face was expressionless—always expressionless—but his eyes… His eyes carried storms galaxies could not hold. In his right hand, a holographic screen shimmered, replaying the same old footage over and over. A woman. A smile that he remembered more vividly than light itself. Hands stroking her round belly while she spoke to him from a time that no longer existed. Angy. His Angy. His child. Gone. He had lost worlds, been betrayed by fate itself... died more times than mortals could comprehend. But none of those pains compared to the scar carved the day he lost them. The footage looped again with Angy rubbing her belly, telling the unborn child about their father. Gustav's chest tightened like someone was twisting it. He had no heartbeat anymore, but the phantom ache was endless. He didn't speak. Words had stopped belonging to him years ago. This was his eternity... watching a recording of a life he could never return to. For someone who saved the universe, he was cursed as a living deity, immortality had become nothing but a prison of memory. A tear slid down his cheek. It didn't fall as water... it evaporated into glowing dust, a power so dense the ground itself trembled. Even his grief could destroy planets. He sniffed and wiped the corner of his eye. More dust. Then the air transformed. A circular ripple of lavender gold energy appeared behind him without warning. It was a portal. And from it came the only person he allowed to bypass his awareness. He didn't look up. A pair of boots clicked gently against the ground. "Well," a familiar female voice sighed, "you still look like a brooding statue." Gustav lifted his gaze faintly. Miss Aimee stepped out of the portal, wearing dark-crimson robes and her hair tied up in an elegant, no-nonsense bun. She still carried herself with that impossible combination of beauty, arrogance, and calm lethal energy that once made her the most powerful woman on Earth. Her presence alone would make worlds tremble, but compared to him… she felt almost human. "You're here again," Gustav murmured softly as his eyes returned to the hologram. "Shouldn't you be running your planet?" Miss Aimee rolled her eyes and walked over, lowering herself to sit beside him on the rock. "My planet will survive without me for a few days. They know how to respect their goddess. Besides—" She nudged his shoulder lightly. "—I can't bear to leave my favorite student sitting on a dead rock forever." Gustav didn't react at first. Then he exhaled quietly. "I'm fine." "You're a terrible liar," she answered immediately. "You've always been terrible at lying to me." He remained silent. Miss Aimee leaned forward slightly, watching the hologram play again... Angy laughing softly, rubbing her belly, speaking gently to the unborn child. Miss Aimee's expression softened, losing its usual sharpness. "You've been watching this every day for over three centuries, Gustav." "It's the last thing she left for me," Gustav whispered. "The last moment I can still… feel them." Miss Aimee looked at him with deep, aching sympathy. There were few beings in existence who could understand loss on this scale. Gustav had brought her back from death long ago... he could bend the laws of time, space, and existence... but he could not bring back Angy or the child. The conditions were impossible. The circumstances irreversible. Even for him. "How long do you plan to keep punishing yourself like this?" Miss Aimee asked gently. "I'm not punishing myself. I'm remembering." "Same thing," she muttered. She waited a moment. Then she breathed out slowly as her voice lowered. "Do you really intend to never show your face to your friends again?" Gustav let the hologram fade. "They're happier without me. Besides, if I stay on Earth too long…" "It's risky. Yes, I know." Miss Aimee crossed her arms. "But your friends? They're mixedbloods. They don't age like normal humans. And they aren't afraid of you, Gustav. They miss you." He stared at the ground. "Maybe one day." Miss Aimee frowned. "One day? Do you think they'll live forever? Not everyone is immortal like you or I. They will die someday—and you'll regret not going to see them before that happens." "They still have centuries ahead," Gustav replied. "I can wait." "And what if waiting becomes another century? And another after that? And another?" she pressed. "You are hiding, Gustav. From your grief. From yourself. From everything." Heavy and unmoving silence fell again. Miss Aimee studied his empty eyes and broken strength in every breath in took, for a long moment. Finally, she softened. "Fine. I'll stop pushing you." She sighed. "But don't tell me you're okay. Don't lie to me." He didn't respond. After a moment, Gustav's voice came out quieter. "Should you even be here…? You really do have responsibilities." Miss Aimee snorted. "They can wait. I only have one Gustav." She reached over, placed a hand on the back of his head, and pulled it toward her shoulder abruptly. "How could I bear to leave you alone like this?" Gustav froze slightly. She was still as rough as ever. The gesture reminded him painfully of the early days... when he was still weak, still learning under her merciless training. He let his head rest against her. For a long moment, they both simply breathed. The silence wasn't empty this time. It was warm and comforting. Old memories drifted between them—training sessions, scoldings, her lectures, his defiance, her grudging pride. She had watched him become a monster, a savior, a god. She had died for him. He had resurrected her. Their connection was beyond normal definitions. "I miss her," Gustav whispered. Miss Aimee's expression wavered. "I know," she said softly. "And you always will. Losing someone like that… it never truly heals." She touched his hair gently. "…but wounds don't have to stay open forever." Gustav stayed silent for a long time. Then he lifted his head, looking at her directly. "Thank you," he murmured. She smiled faintly. They spoke for long hours after that... about Angy, about what she would've wanted, about how fiercely she had loved him, about the child who never had a chance. They revisited old memories. Painful ones. Warm ones. Miss Aimee had always been harsh, strict and sarcastic but in this moment, she was gentle in a way only she could be. And Gustav… for the first time in centuries… allowed himself to feel the weight of everything he had locked away. Eventually, the conversation grew softer. Their words slowed. Their eyes held each other longer than before. Then Miss Aimee inhaled deeply, and her voice came out quieter. "Gustav… close your eyes." He blinked. She moved closer. "I want to make you feel better," she whispered. Before he could reply, she gently pushed him backward. The red coat spread beneath him as he lay back on the pale rock surface. Miss Aimee straddled him with her knees on either side of his waist and her eyes locked on his with an expression he had never seen from her before. There was no mockery. No taunting. No smugness. Only raw, aching affection. Pain. Tenderness. Longing. A centuries-old bond twisted by grief. Gustav's breath hitched faintly. He knew instantly... this wasn't one of her usual teases. She reached down slowly, cupping his face in both hands. Her thumbs brushed against his cheeks. Her forehead lowered until it touched his. "Don't run from this," she whispered. He didn't... A moment passed and their lips met. A warmth spread through the cold cavern of his chest... Her robe loosened around her as she leaned over him. Her breath mingled with his as her hands trembled slightly despite her usual composure. The dim lavender sky above them seemed to flicker as low moans and grunts soon rang out in low waves across the surroundings. ●●● Meanwhile... In far reaches of space... in another universe... An infant floated with dark scalding marks across its skin. Its eyes were fully closed but it seemed to be breathing which should be impossible in the depths of space. It floated for ages... And ages... And ages... Remaining the same way as if time had refused to flow for it. And then suddenly, a strange humanoid entity with a long white beard and a staff approached it with a look of utter disbelief and confusion. 'A baby? How?' His thoughts whirred. He proceeded to grab the infant and after a long pause, flew off into the distance. THE END. Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who made it this far. Thank you all for the support since day one. I appreciate each and everyone of you. We started this journey five years ago and through out this time, I have learned a lot and improved a lot. Let me not bore you all with the details. The Bloodline System comes to an end here and you all are the reason it ever made it this far. There might be a prequel or a sequel, who knows... still undecided. However, I will release a few side chapters after this. Enjoy :)