The aether folded away, and Reks staggered into darkness.
He stood in a cavern carved by storm and sea, its walls slick with salt and shadow. Waves crashed through jagged cracks overhead, spray bursting in violent plumes that soaked the stone floor. Lightning split the sky beyond, its flash bleeding through fissures and turning the cavern white for a heartbeat at a time. Each thunderclap rolled like the voice of a god, shaking loose pebbles from the ceiling.
The air was thick with brine and sulfur, every breath heavy. Reks's boots sloshed in the ankle-deep water that pooled across the cavern floor. He tightened his grip on the axe slung across his back, muscles aching from battles past, his breath still unsteady from the warp between trials.
A low growl cut through the storm.
From the shadows crawled something vast — its frame broad as the cavern roof, its hide black as volcanic stone, ridged with cracks that bled molten light. Horns curled from its skull, dripping ichor that sizzled when it touched the seawater. Its fists were like boulders wrapped in talons, each movement gouging furrows into the rock. Eyes burned crimson, unblinking, filled with hunger.
The Voidsent Juggernaut.
Reks's heart thudded, but his stance steadied. "Figures. They'd send a demon." He raised his axe, salt spray dripping from the blade. "Fine. Then I'll give it a fight worth remembering."
The Juggernaut's roar drowned out the thunder, a guttural bellow that made the cavern quake.
The monster charged. Every step shook the cavern floor, sending waves splashing against the walls. It swung a claw the size of a cart in a brutal downward strike.
Reks met it head-on. His axe slammed against the claw, sparks hissing where steel clashed with void-touched flesh. The impact rattled his bones and drove him back through the water, boots carving deep trenches in the flooded stone.
Another strike followed, a hammer-fist aimed at his chest. Reks twisted, catching the blow on his axe-haft. The force cracked the rock beneath his feet, pain shooting down his arms as his weapon groaned under the strain.
The Juggernaut laughed. It was not a beast's cry but something cruel and knowing, a sound that vibrated in his skull. Then it struck again. And again.
Reks's body screamed under the barrage. Each blow battered his guard aside, bruised his ribs, tore fresh lines of blood across his skin. His axe felt heavier with every heartbeat, his breath ragged in his throat.
The demon's eyes flared, and its horns sparked with void-flame. With one colossal swing, it sent him crashing into the cavern wall. Stone shattered around him. He slumped, coughing blood, his axe skittering into the shallow water.
The Juggernaut advanced slowly, savoring the moment.
Reks pushed against the stone, ribs grinding. His fingers twitched, searching for his axe. The brine stung his wounds, his vision swimming.
In the haze, another memory surged — not this cavern, but Nalbina Fortress.
Heard the cry of his brother Vaan. Felt the lance pierce his chest as he collapsed, gasping for air he would never draw again.
He should have died. He did die. His story should have ended on that battlefield, one more nameless soldier crushed under the heel of empire.
But Sirius had pulled him back. And now here he stood.
Reks spat blood into the water, teeth gritted. I should have died then. But I didn't. I won't waste the chance I've been given.
The Juggernaut raised both fists high, void-energy crackling.
Reks reached for his axe. His hand closed on the haft just as the demon brought its fists down.
Stone exploded. Water surged upward. The impact drove Reks to his knees, his arms nearly breaking under the weight. His axe groaned, the haft splintering. Blood poured from his lip.
But he didn't fall.
He planted his boots deeper into the stone, every muscle screaming, and forced the axe upward. His voice tore from his chest, raw and defiant:
"Pain isn't the end. Rage isn't my master!"
The Juggernaut snarled, pressing harder, horns flaring with fire.
Reks's eyes blazed through the blood running down his face. "I wield both. And I endure!"
With a roar, he shoved the fists aside and swung his axe in a wide arc. The blade cleaved into the demon's chest, black ichor spraying across the cavern. The monster staggered back, stunned.
Another punch came, cracking his ribs. He roared, swung again, his axe biting deeper. The Juggernaut's ichor burned his skin where it splattered, but he ignored it.
Another claw slashed his shoulder open. He screamed, drove his axe into its leg, severing tendon and bone.
Every blow broke him further — but with each wound, his strength grew sharper, like steel honed on the whetstone of pain. He turned suffering into fuel, rage into focus.
The Juggernaut reared back for a final charge.
Reks staggered upright, blood running into his eyes, his body little more than broken flesh held together by will. He tightened his grip on his axe, every breath fire in his lungs.
"This is my oath," he rasped. "You'll break me a hundred times — and I'll rise a hundred more!"
He leapt, both hands gripping the axe, and brought it down with a roar that rivaled the storm outside. The blade split the Juggernaut's skull, void-ichor bursting like fire.
The demon collapsed, shaking the cavern floor.
Reks dropped to one knee, panting, blood pouring from his wounds. His body trembled, but his axe was still in his hands.
"Still… standing," he whispered.
The Juggernaut twitched. Its body convulsed, shadows spilling from its wounds. With a final, unearthly roar, it exploded outward, tearing the cavern apart.
Lightning ripped through the walls. Stone ceilings shattered into shards of nothing. Water cascaded into the abyss.
Reks staggered upright, swaying, his axe his only support. The cavern dissolved into fragments of desert, forest, steppe, and mountain.
Through the chaos, he glimpsed Aerith's lilies glowing against poison.
Zack's sword blazing like dawn.
Galuf's fists striking stormfire.
Noctis's lance piercing dragon flame.
The Juggernaut's shadow rose again, its horns curling into wings, claws dripping with venom and storm. Its roar merged with the treant's wail, the wyvern's shriek, the colossus's thunder.
The twilight battlefield awaited.
Reks set his stance, blood running freely, his axe steady. His scars burned like fire across his flesh, not marks of defeat but proof of survival.
He exhaled, voice raw but steady.
"I'm not the boy who died. I'm the man who endures."
And with that, he stepped forward into the twilight, where all oaths would be tested.