Across Eternities

The chamber of judgment was voidlike—an endless, gray expanse where even sound seemed to hold its breath. In this realm, neither earth nor sky existed, just an infinite sense of absence. Etria and Aluren stood together at the center, their forms stark against the nothingness that enveloped them. Bound in shackles that glimmered faintly with runes of restriction, they could feel the weight of their severed connection to power—Etria, once so attuned to harmony, and Aluren, who had thrived in boundless rebellion.

Before them, the Cosmic Council loomed—featureless entities, their shapes constantly shifting and merging into forms incomprehensible to mortal or divine understanding. Though formless, they radiated authority and judgment, an immutable law made manifest.

"You stand accused," the voice of the council echoed, neither loud nor soft but omnipresent. It spoke directly into their consciousness, vibrating in ways that scraped at their very cores. "Your union defies the primal laws that hold the Cosmos intact. The love you have formed is unnatural and destabilizing. It creates fractures in the fabric of existence itself."

Aluren chuckled bitterly despite the restraints pulling at his strength. "Unnatural, you say? By whose design? Love exists even in the most violent corners of creation, but because it's inconvenient for you—"

"Enough." The single word cracked the void, sending vibrations through their very bones. The air grew heavier, the tension oppressive.

Etria stepped forward carefully, her movements measured despite the chains weighing her down. "If love between gods is forbidden, it is because you fear it," she said, her voice calm yet imploring. "We do not reject our purpose, nor do we seek chaos. All we ask is to exist together. Surely the Cosmos is vast enough to allow that?"

The Council did not answer her plea. Instead, the void pulsed as though reacting to their mounting displeasure. "Your perspective is too small to see the consequences of your actions, Etria. What seems an intimate bond to you sets loose a wave of discord across existence. Order crumbles when divine love exists, for it binds powers that should remain apart. We cannot allow it."

"And what happens when you do allow it?" Aluren snapped, his defiance flaring like sparks in the void. "You pretend to guard against chaos, but you're no guardians—you're jailors. This 'order' you claim to uphold stifles everything good. Love is messy, yes, but it is life. You fear it because you've forgotten it!"

"Aluren, please," Etria whispered, tugging on his arm. She could feel his energy surging against the confines of the binding runes. With their powers stifled, his recklessness could doom them before the council's punishment was even delivered.

But Aluren couldn't stop. "Strip us of power. Restrict our realms. Denounce us all you want. It doesn't matter, because what you're doing isn't about balance. It's about control!"

The council let the silence stretch painfully long before speaking again. This time, their voice sounded colder, final. "Your love is not merely an error to correct but a threat to erase. For defying the law, we pass this judgment: the dissolution of your physical forms, the obliteration of your realms, and the scattering of your soul fragments to the farthest corners of the Cosmos. You will never be whole again."

Etria inhaled sharply, her fingers curling into fists. "You would destroy not only us but also countless beings tied to our existence? Those realms breathe with life! You call us destabilizing, yet you would wreak untold havoc for the sake of a rigid ideal."

"For the sake of existence itself," the council answered, their tone unwavering.

"No," Aluren growled, stepping forward despite the chains. "This isn't about existence. It's about fear. You're afraid because we remind you what it's like to feel."

The space shifted. Around them, faint outlines began to coalesce into a towering figure—the Hand of the Cosmos, the embodiment of the council's will. It was a being neither solid nor fluid, its body composed of ceaselessly moving fragments that pulsed with cold, mechanical purpose. The energy around it thrummed, a suffocating resonance that sent vibrations through Etria and Aluren's very cores.

"This is the end of your existence," the council declared.

Etria turned her gaze to Aluren. Their powers were suppressed, but their bond—the connection that had ignited between them against all odds—remained. It pulsed faintly like a heartbeat, a quiet defiance against the overwhelming presence of the Hand.

"Aluren," she whispered, her voice soft yet unshaken.

He turned to her, and for a moment, the fire in his eyes softened. "I'm not letting them do this to us, Etria."

Her lips curved in a faint, bittersweet smile. "We were bound to them once, but not now. Whatever happens, we face it together."

He gripped her hand tightly, the weight of his usual bluster falling away. In the fragile space between breaths, the reality of what they faced sank in. There was no escape. There was only the end.

The Hand of the Cosmos extended its arm—a massive, spindling construct that shimmered with otherworldly power. As its energy gathered, ready to unmake them, Aluren took one last step forward, pulling Etria alongside him.

"No more running," he muttered. "No more chains."

Etria squeezed his hand, her gaze fixed on the Hand's inexorable advance. Their energies may have been stifled, but the spark of what they had kindled together remained—a love that even the Cosmos itself couldn't extinguish.

The Hand struck, its energy erupting in a pulse of raw annihilation. Etria and Aluren stood firm, their defiance echoing in the void. The brilliance of the attack consumed them, but in those last moments, they held each other close.

Their souls sang, defiant and unbroken, as the cosmos unraveled their forms. Whatever awaited them in the far-flung reaches of existence, they would find their way back to one another.

The void fell silent.

But somewhere, amidst the infinite expanse, fragments of Etria and Aluren lingered, faint and glowing, like the stars they had once shaped.