Creation Of All Things-Chapter 203: Aroura’s Plan

Krayon Sol – Edge of the High District Rooftops

The city glowed beneath them like a living tapestry—lanterns drifting in the air, arcane pulses humming through the sky-chains, distant laughter echoing from a festival still burning into the night.

Adam stood alone at the edge of the rooftop, one hand in his coat pocket, the other loosely hanging at his side. The wind tousled his hair gently, and his silver eyes reflected the stars above.

"Knew I'd find you here," came a calm voice behind him.

He didn't turn. He didn't need to.

Aurora.

She stepped up beside him, quiet as breath, her long coat fluttering at the hem. Her gaze followed his, scanning the horizon.

"I can end the Architect and the Spiral," Adam said after a moment, voice low and even. "Snuff them out before they become more than annoyances. But it's not my war, Aurora. It's Joshua's."

He paused, eyes narrowing.

"I'm not one for politics. Or chess matches. That's more your thing. I'm the punch-now, think-later kind of guy. But even chaos gets boring after a while. Watching them move pieces, hiding behind faces, pretending to be clever…"

He sighed, then smirked faintly.

"If I listened to Jordan and Kael'Thar, I would've wiped them out before the sun rose."

Aurora tilted her head slightly, her face unreadable as always. But her voice was soft.

"You saw the Spiral's hand today."

Adam nodded. "Lyrix. The Pale Choir. That little display was him flexing—showing off his reach. He thinks he's clever."

She watched the stars for a while before speaking again.

"What if I made it your business?"

That got his attention. He turned just slightly, one brow raised.

"What if," she continued, still looking ahead, "I let the Spiral take me? Stage a kidnapping. Force your hand. We both know you've started growing… attached."

Adam chuckled.

"Dangerous game, Aurora."

"So is sitting on your hands while the world falls apart," she replied simply.

He looked at her, this time fully, eyes sharp.

"Having feelings and acting on them are two very different things."

"Then act," she said without missing a beat.

He laughed—quiet and short. Rare.

"If it were up to the me standing here, we'd both stay single and married to war. No drama. No emotions. Clean and simple."

Aurora actually smiled.

Not a smirk.

Not a knowing curl of the lip.

But an actual, quiet smile.

"Is that the great Aurora… laughing?" Adam said, eyes widening slightly, teasing in his tone.

"Don't ruin it," she replied.

Another silence settled, not awkward—just familiar.

Adam leaned on the railing. "So. You planning to go through with your idea? Let the Spiral bait me out?"

Aurora shrugged slightly. "I'm not afraid of being bait. I'm afraid of letting them control the board too long."

"That's your chess mind talking again."

"And your fists would land too late if we wait until Joshua bleeds."

Adam glanced up at the sky again, then at her.

"You're serious, huh."

"Always."

He exhaled deeply. "Then if it happens… if you disappear—know this."

His tone shifted. Slower. Heavier.

"I will bring down the sky to get you back. Spiral or Architect or whoever else tries me. I'll burn their names out of existence."

Aurora didn't flinch. She met his gaze calmly.

"That's what I'm counting on."

Adam blinked. "You manipulative woman."

"Only with people I trust."

He gave her a crooked smile. "You sure you're not in love with me already?"

"That would be inefficient."

Adam burst into laughter again, real this time. "There it is. Back to spreadsheets and swordplay."

She didn't laugh this time—but her smile lingered.

"Sleep while you can," she said. "The Spiral doesn't wait long."

"Neither do I."

And together, under the stars of Krayon Sol, they stood—two quiet storms waiting to move.

The wind rolled softly across the rooftop, rustling the banners draped over the distant towers. Krayon Sol glimmered below them, golden and alive. From this height, the city looked like a breathing constellation.

Aurora leaned against the stone rail, arms folded, eyes distant. Her voice came low, just above the whisper of the wind.

"I saw it."

Adam looked at her.

"What?"

"The Architect of Ruin. And the Spiral. Together. Talking. In the void." Her fingers tapped once against her arm. "Not as friends. But as forces aligned. For now."

Adam's expression tightened. "That's a pairing no one asked for."

"They don't know I saw it. They don't even know I exist." She turned to him slowly. "I'm not on their board, Adam. Not in their plans. I'm invisible to both."

Adam gave a small nod. "Which makes you dangerous."

"Exactly." Aurora stepped closer, her tone calm, sharp. "The Architect wants Zayriel—Joshua—for whatever reasons a being like that collects names. The Spiral wants to break him, rewrite his legacy, and twist the city into a hymn of despair."

She paused. Her next words carried weight.

"But neither of them knows me. And that gives me the edge."

Adam frowned. "What did you see, exactly?"

Aurora exhaled slowly, like pulling the memory from the corners of her mind.

"A rift. Big. Wide. The Architect shaping it with his hands like clay. And the Spiral feeding it timelines. Memories that didn't happen. Futures that were never supposed to be."

She looked at him.

"It's not just war they're preparing for. It's removal. Erasure. Not death. Not domination. But unmaking."

Adam's jaw tightened. "They want to rewrite this place from the root."

"Not just this place." Aurora tapped her temple. "They want to erase meaning. To take everything that makes Joshua who he is and twist it until even he doesn't remember what he's fighting for."

Adam stepped back, running a hand through his hair.

"And your plan is to let yourself get pulled into that?"

"Yes." She said it like she was announcing the weather.

"Aurora."

"I'm the one thing they don't see coming. If I can let them think they've taken me, I can learn where they're hiding, what they're building—and plant the counterstrike from inside."

Adam was quiet.

Then, slowly:

"You know that's reckless, right?"

"I know it's necessary."

"You're not invincible."

"Neither are they."

The silence between them stretched, tight and full of tension.

Then Adam stepped forward.

"If they touch you—"

"They won't."

"If they try—"

"Then they'll learn."

Adam sighed. "You're serious about this?"

"Always."

He looked at her for a long time, then finally nodded.

"Then if you're playing shadow games, I'll be your sword when it breaks down."

Aurora gave the faintest nod. "That's what I'm counting on."

They stood like that for a while, watching the stars blink over the skyline. The city below unaware. The war above unseen.

But the game?

The game had begun.