And far above, the Pegasus constellation—the one astronomers call a mere asterism, a “square” of unremarkable stars—burned just a little brighter than science could explain. Saint Seiya is, at its core, a story about the elasticity of the human spirit. Armor breaks. Gods scheme. But a fist fueled by the wish to protect one person? That travels faster than light.

Seiya smiled. It was a terrible, beautiful, human smile.

“Pegasus...” he rasped, fingers scraping stone. “...Ryūsei...”