The Eleventh Hour of the Eclipse
The Sanctuary bells began to ring. Not in alarm. In defiance.
It flew sideways . Through the temporal wall. Through the memory of every defeat, every doubt, every moment he had been told his constellation was the lowest, the weakest, the joke of the Saints.
“PEGASUS...”
And for one eternal second, the sun returned.
“We don’t do impossible,” he said. “We do next .”
“...RYŪSEIKEN!”
Not the flashy explosion. The quiet kind. The warmth in the chest of a man who has nothing left but still chooses to stand.