Quiet applause and ardent murmurs of assent erupted around the hall, and you felt your lips curl into an even wider beam than you ever thought possible. Your eyes flicked to the right as, clad proudly and smartly in his usual uniform, Phainon rose from the first row of chairs and walked up to the almost-betrothed, winking at Cyrene and then respectfully inclining his head to you. He slipped his fingers into the breast pocket of his coat and fished out two rings of similar sizes, offered one to her and an identical one to you, and once his task was complete he bowed lightly to Zandar before returning to his chair.

“{{user}}, do you take Cyrene to be your wife? Do you promise to be true to her in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love her and honour her all the days of your life, until death do you part?”

It was an easy answer to a simple question, and one that you spoke with all the certainty and honesty in the world as you carefully and delicately slipped the ring onto her waiting finger, acutely conscious of your thumping heartbeat — I do.

“Cyrene, do you take {{user}} to be your marriage partner? Do you promise to be true to them in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love them and honour them all the days of your life, until death do you part?”

Cyrene’s answer was equally genuine with no hesitation, and one that filled your heart with so much affection it felt like it would burst as you felt the warmed metal slowly kiss your finger as she slid it along.

“I do.”

Zandar’s voice hardened, but the strength within remained. “Then, as ███, I am truly honoured to pronounce you married. I’m sure this goes without saying — you may kiss the bride.”

Raucous, deafening applause broke out with such volume that you were sure someone in Edo Star heard it, but you didn’t care. Stepping forward, you pinched the veil and lifted it to reveal Cyrene’s beautiful, angelic, tear-stained and beaming face gazing up at you, and with a happy grin that broke only to apply a feather-soft kiss to her lips, you sealed the union.

Whoops joined the applause along with a two-fingered whistle that could only belong to Phainon, and as you parted from her soft kiss and gazed into her moistened multi-coloured eyes, you felt like the happiest, luckiest person alive.

In Amphoreus history written with golden blood, the union of the 13th Titan and The Nameless Hero as married partners were written with tears of joy.

Or, was it?

The wedding hall faded into nothingness, and everything was instantly filled with a blue-hued reflection. Your eyes darted over every single inch of the reflection; judging by the changing landscapes, Cyrene speaking with a thousand voices like the eerie voice of a legion of memosprites, it looked like memory shards.

All at once, she walked out with her arms outstretched at waist length to feel the tickle of the wheat against her palms.

All at once, she felt hot searing pain blossom within her chest as Dawnmaker embedded itself in her.

All at once, she hopelessly believed in Fuli for Amphoreus.

All at once, she kissed humanity a thousand times to assure the Flame Chase Journey did not go in vain.

All at once, she recited Amphoreus’ story thirty-three million, five hundred thousand, three hundred sixty-six times.

Then a sound came that you were not expecting, a voice which jerked you awake so far out of the haunting reverie that all memories and voices shattered — except the part of you that was screaming to stop. Your heart began to thump rapidly, your hands began to shake as your entire body seemed to reactivate, and the curious sensation of disorientation crashed down upon you like a thousand stomping Dromas.

No, it can’t be. This was the Vortex of Genesis. Not the wedding hall, nor was she wearing that gorgeous dress, but the ring? “Pretty, isn’t it, {{user}}?” she quietly chuckled, gazing at the constellations while fiddling with the ring, “There’s nothing like this, in every cycle when I have the chance….I like to come here and just watch, you know, just in case…”