The storm had not ended—only shifted. The crimson clouds above churned with unnatural light, flashes of lightning illuminating the battlefield like a fever dream. The world had turned to twilight, a place between life and death, where every sound bled into the next: steel on steel, voices swallowed by the wind, the low hum of the living fortress as it breathed.
Reiji stood amid the chaos, blade dripping with both oil and blood. Around him, the Shadow Vanguard fought in desperate silence. Their dark cloaks tore in the wind, faces streaked with soot and ash. But their movements were deliberate—synchronized, relentless. They fought not to win, but to make meaning out of ruin.
Kaede's voice cut through the roar of the storm. "Reiji! The west flank's collapsing!"
He turned just in time to see Dominion automata breaking through the ridge—steel bodies wrapped in pulsating tendrils of red light, their faces carved into emotionless masks. The machines moved like predators that had learned hate.
Reiji's eyes narrowed. "Pull the scouts back. Form a second line near the ridge. We can't let them circle."
Kaede nodded, sprinting into the smoke, shouting orders that vanished beneath the thunder.
Reiji exhaled slowly, raising his sword. The faint glow of the crimson sky reflected off the blade's edge—a thin line of light against the dark. His voice was quiet, almost a whisper.
"Twilight's coming, Vale. And I'll make sure it takes us both."
---
The fortress pulsed again. Its heartbeat reverberated through the ground, shaking stones loose from the cliffs. From within the living structure, Vale's laughter echoed—distorted, hollow, filled with something both human and divine.
"Still speaking in oaths, Reiji? You haven't changed. The world burns, yet you cling to words."
Reiji didn't look up. "Words built the world before fire did."
A blast of red light erupted from the fortress's core. The shockwave hurled debris across the valley, scattering soldiers like dust. Reiji braced his stance, the force tearing at his coat, his hair whipping wildly.
Out of the crimson smoke stepped Vale—or what was left of him. The man Reiji once knew was buried beneath layers of living armor, veins of light pulsing through his limbs. His face was still his own, but the eyes were something else—empty, reflecting a world he no longer belonged to.
"Do you see it?" Vale said, voice deep, echoing through the air. "The Dominion's god breathes through me. The old world dies, and I become the bridge to what's next."
Reiji steadied his grip. "You became their cage."
Vale's smile twisted. "Then what does that make you, Reiji? The key that refused to turn?"
The words hung between them, heavy and sharp. Then, without another breath, Vale moved.
He struck like lightning—faster than sight, faster than thought. Reiji barely caught the blow, the clash of blades sending sparks across the air. The impact rattled his bones, the echo reverberating down to his chest. Vale pressed harder, his strength inhuman.
"Your blade trembles," Vale hissed. "Even your resolve is dying."
Reiji pushed back, teeth clenched. "Resolve doesn't die. It just changes shape."
He twisted his wrist, letting Vale's strike slide off his blade, then countered—a slash upward, swift and surgical. The edge tore through Vale's shoulder, spilling fluid that shimmered like mercury.
Vale staggered back, expression unreadable. Then he smiled. "You still remember."
"Every scar teaches," Reiji said quietly. "And you gave me most of them."
---
Around them, the battlefield raged. Kaede led the west flank, cutting through Dominion soldiers with mechanical precision. Her movements were sharp but fluid, the kind of grace born from desperation.
"Hold the line!" she shouted, voice raw. "Don't let them breach the ridge!"
One of the Shadows fell beside her, his mask cracking as blood darkened the soil. Kaede didn't flinch—just caught his blade before it hit the ground and used it to drive back the next automaton.
Everywhere she looked, there was fire—orange and red and white, consuming everything. The wind carried screams and the scent of metal. Yet in that chaos, her eyes kept searching for him.
"Reiji…" she whispered under her breath, before plunging back into the fray.
---
Back near the fortress, Reiji and Vale's duel had become something primal. Their blades moved faster than the eye could follow, each clash ringing through the valley like thunder. Every strike carried memory—echoes of training halls long abandoned, of promises once shared under gentler skies.
Vale slashed, cutting through the air. "You still think you can save them?"
Reiji dodged, the blade grazing his shoulder. "Not save. Remember."
Vale lunged again, and this time Reiji met him halfway. Their swords locked, faces inches apart.
"Remembering doesn't change the end," Vale growled.
Reiji's eyes were steady. "It changes the reason we fight for it."
He kicked Vale back, spun, and brought his sword down in a single fluid motion. The blade met armor—and split it. The strike tore through Vale's chest, sending sparks and blood in a burst of light.
For a moment, time stopped.
Vale looked down at the wound, then at Reiji. His expression softened—not rage, not pain, but recognition. "You always… chose differently."
Reiji's voice broke. "You could've too."
Vale's lips parted as if to reply—but the fortress roared again, drowning his voice in thunder.
The ground beneath them cracked. Crimson light burst upward, engulfing the battlefield. The fortress began to collapse inward, its veins of light coiling like serpents retreating into the earth.
Kaede saw it from afar. "Reiji!" she screamed, sprinting toward the explosion.
Reiji turned, catching her silhouette against the chaos—the only thing that still looked human in a world consumed by light.
He moved toward her, but Vale's hand caught his arm. Not to fight—just to stop him.
"Don't," Vale whispered, his voice breaking through the noise. "Go… while you still can."
For a heartbeat, Reiji saw the man he once called brother—the soldier who laughed in the rain, who believed the world could be rebuilt from ashes.
Then Vale smiled, faint and human. "I'll keep the vow for both of us."
And with that, he tore himself free, plunging his blade into the fortress core. The explosion that followed was not sound—it was silence so deep it erased everything.
---
When Reiji opened his eyes, the storm was gone.
The crimson sky had faded to pale gray, the fortress reduced to ruins of steel and bone. The air still shimmered with heat, the scent of iron thick. Kaede knelt beside him, shaking his shoulder.
"Reiji—hey, stay with me."
He blinked slowly. "Vale?"
She looked away. "There's nothing left."
He sat up, staring at the crater where the fortress once stood. In the center, a single shard of crimson metal pulsed faintly, still warm. Reiji reached for it, fingers brushing against its surface.
It glowed brighter for a moment—then dimmed.
Kaede's voice was soft. "What is it?"
Reiji closed his fist around it. "His vow."
She hesitated. "What now?"
Reiji looked at the horizon, where the first light of dawn struggled to pierce the clouds.
"Now," he said quietly, "we carry it forward."
---
Far in the distance, the Dominion banners still burned—but for the first time, they flickered.
The twilight had not brought peace.
But it had brought a beginning.