The storm grew fiercer, shrouding the entire sky in ice and snow.
At the center of the storm, Cocolia's consciousness had entered the Stellaron!
She looked around, feeling as though she stood amid a sea of stars.
A little girl with ear-length brown hair stood quietly in the distance.
Cocolia heard the little girl call:
"Cocolia."
The voice sounded like countless voices layered together, some old, some young.
Cocolia walked toward her, luminous steps materializing beneath her feet.
"Who are you?" Cocolia asked.
"I am the collective will of the Supreme Guardians throughout the ages," the little girl said. "For seven hundred years, the Guardians' wills have been resisting the will of the Stellaron."
Cocolia instinctively disbelieved her, but she caught a fleeting, familiar look in the little girl's eyes.
It belonged to her adoptive mother, Belobog's previous Supreme Guardian.
"I thought you had all died long ago," Cocolia said softly. "So you've been living inside the Stellaron all this time. You saw my deal with it too, didn't you?"
"We are indeed dead, but the Stellaron's nature allowed it to copy our consciousnesses," the little girl said softly. "Thanks to the power of Preservation, the Stellaron cannot assimilate our wills. We became the first line of resistance against it."
"This resistance is meaningless," Cocolia sighed. "If the power of Preservation is so mighty, why doesn't it grant you more strength, instead of leaving you to struggle like this for seven hundred years? How cold the Aeons are."
"We understand your disappointment in Preservation." Rather than becoming angry at Cocolia's insult to her faith, the little girl reflected on their own failings. "For seven hundred years, each generation of Supreme Guardians has left its successors nothing but deeper despair. We have no right to condemn you for ultimately choosing to