communion

César's words grabbed Cantrella's heart as if they were solid. Cantrella's throat was dry, and he felt fear for no reason—as if some kind of monster hidden in the dark opened his eyes to him, and he But without consciousness.

"Humans have lived here for four centuries, and New Carthage has also been split into 29 city-states. You should know what the city-states are doing, right?"

"War." Cantrera whispered, "For land and resources, the war never stops."

"This is where the flaw lies." Sizer smiled cruelly. "400 years ago, humans could build arks for great migrations. Why don't they send arks to find other habitable planets now?"

"Maybe it's a lack of supplies." Cantrella argued feebly.

"Impossible, the 400-year war consumes financial resources, material resources and manpower, and can even rebuild an ark, but why—humans want to huddle up on this desolate star and fight to the death and refuse to leave?"

Cantrella was silent.

"The only explanation is—human beings can't leave, and all people are trapped here until they run out of supplies and die."

"Then what exactly is this place?"

"It's the realm of demons that Gnaeus opened back then."

"Do you have any evidence?"

"Yes." César landed on a boundless desert, "This is exactly what I came for. I want to show you a certain kind of power, which is sometimes called—magic."

"Magic?" Cantrella laughed dumbly, and the tense atmosphere just eased a lot, "I'm not a child."

"I'm not a liar either." Cecil handed Cantrella a test tube containing a light blue liquid, "Try it and you'll know."

Cantrella took the delicate vessel, brushing his fingers over the label on its side—C3024 Sky—that was exactly the same thing he drank in a dream not long ago. “I’ve seen it.”

"It was born for you." Cesar took Cantrera's hands. "You love it—like cherry cake."

"Really? I think it looks like a drug." Cantrella raised his eyebrows, staring at César with a half-smile. In the next second, he gently broke César's hand and took a sip of the potion And do.

"Sweet?" Cantrella tilted his head.

"Really?" César leaned forward, quickly licked the corner of Cantrella's mouth, and said with a smirk, "Well, sweet."

Cantrera shuddered, recalling the situation just now, he didn't feel disgusted, and felt even more uneasy, and threatened César as usual: "Do you want to be me..."

"What about you? Forcibly kissing?" César laughed limply, "I thought about it."

But Cantrera couldn't say anything anymore, and all his attention was shifted to the changes on his back—he grew a pair of huge wings, and when he stroked hard, he even licked off a jet-black patch. However, Cantrella's surprised mood didn't last long. He flapped his wings and flew into the sky instinctively.

The wasteland that César brought him was polluted and uninhabited, and the land showed a strange dark red color, which was very similar to the Tartarus in his memory-this gave Cantrella a sense of homecoming, just As if he had soared between the sky and the earth countless times—suddenly, Cantrella felt some needle-like headaches, the scenery in front of him slowly faded, and some ancient pictures became clear instead...

"Cantrella." César walked into the bedroom lightly, "The weather is fine today, why don't you...ah, I fell asleep."

The boy curled up into a small ball on the bed, with a book covering his face.

César took away the book, pinched Cantrella's red face, "Baby, wake up."

Cantrella muttered a few times in dissatisfaction, and precisely covered César's mouth, "Don't make noise."

"It's a pity." César took Cantrera's hand away and whispered in his ear, "I planned to take you overlooking Tartaros."

"What!" Cantrella's drowsiness dissipated immediately, and there seemed to be little stars twinkling in his eyes, "Do you want to take me flying?"

"No." César straightened Cantrella, "This time, I'm going to teach you how to fly."

On the edge of the cliff, the boy drank the potion, grew a pair of immature little wings, fluttered a few times excitedly - but did not fly.

"Don't worry." César was amused by him, "Come on, let me teach you."

A week later, the sky of Tartarus was no longer alone. Two pairs of identical black wings drew tracks in the air.

"Cantrella, do you want to know how I made you grow wings?"

"It's magic, right?" The boy's eyes were clear, full of joy.

"You can say that." César felt that the boy in front of him was getting cuter, "Want to learn?"

"miss you!"

"But you are different from me. You need potions and utensils as the medium to use magic - this will be difficult, are you really willing to learn?"

"Yeah!" Cantrella nodded vigorously, and asked after a while, "Why did you teach me magic?"

"Because you are also the master of Tartarus, little fool."

The boy showed a big smile, pure and warm, without any haze.

In the days that followed, Cantrella refreshed his perception of "genius" every day. Cantrella was so talented in magic—until one day, Cantrella held a bottle of Potion, happily announced: "I have modified the formula of the sky, it may turn me into some kind of mighty magical creature."

"Really?" César seldom became curious, "You try."

Cantrella drank the potion in one gulp, closed his eyes piously and waited. When he opened his eyes again, he asked in confusion: "Cesar, why did you become so big?"

César tried hard to hold back his laughter, hugged Cantrella and held it in his hands, "You have become smaller, cute little rabbit."

Cantrella stared blankly at his tiny paws for a moment, pulled off his large ears to cover his eyes, and shrunk into a ball escapally.

César kissed the snow-white little dumpling, then gently smoothed Cantrell's hair, "Hey, I'll take you home."

The noble blond youth like a god said, solemnly placed the little white rabbit on top of his head, and walked slowly back to the castle. The blood-colored sunset shone on the two of them, as if eternity.