Tekio ran as fast as his legs would carry him. His heartbeat thundered—not only from the effort, but from the urgency gnawing at his very bones. His feet had already crossed the first wall that led into the old forest park, where, in the distance, the sky trembled with explosions and thunderous roars. The ground quaked as if the very foundations of the world were about to collapse.
He could hear the clash.
The blasts. The fire. The muffled screams.
Something titanic was unfolding out there—something every instinct in him screamed to avoid, yet every beat of his heart drove him toward it.
That name echoed inside his head: Dante.
The sound of battle made his pace quicken even further, despite the exhaustion weighing on his body.
Karmore's words still lingered, poisoning every thought:
"You carry the echo of destruction within you… Yara was never forgotten—she lives inside you. But that truth… could be the end."
Tekio drew a deep breath, swallowing the tightness in his throat.
No… I don't want to be anyone's ruin. I just want everyone to be okay.
He remembered Mei — her fearless grin and blazing eyes.
Tenklyn and Akira, always ready to protect him without saying a word.
Aisha's serene gaze, Dan's laugh, Stella's calm and steady light…
All of it made him long for something painfully simple.
I want to go to the movies with them. Watch something stupid. Laugh. Make plans for the holidays. Travel… do anything. As long as we're together. As long as this all ends.
But those gentle thoughts were torn away in an instant.
A whistle cut through the air.
Two crimson blades flashed before his eyes, aimed straight for his head—swift, merciless. Two men—twins in murderous intent, though not by blood—emerged from the forest shadows.
Tekio dodged purely by instinct.
Something inside him had changed.
Even through fatigue, his reflexes felt sharper. His body lighter. His mind clearer.
It was as if every cell in him pulsed with a power he didn't yet understand.
He raised his gaze. The attackers were marked—necks, arms, even their eyes engraved with runes. It was unmistakable.
Demonic aura. Forbidden seals.
Reapers.
Tekio's face hardened.
Of all the world's organizations, none were more despised.
The Reapers lived at the edge of the abyss—masters of forbidden pacts, assassins of the unseen, zealots of absolute power.
The silent war between Sifs and Reapers had long been kept in check by one presence:
Mei Nuhay, the Line of Fire, as the Reapers called her.
She was the wall between order and chaos.
And now… they were here.
Why?
The question hammered through his mind.
Fear rose—not for himself, but for the others.
How deep did this pit go?
How far had they already fallen?
And then came the memory—his sister, murdered by creatures like these.
His blood boiled.
— What are you doing here? — he demanded, his aura igniting around him, electric flames flickering between grief and fury. — What do you know about what's happening?
The men said nothing. They only smiled.
— The Sifs will be executed. One by one. — they intoned, as if reciting a prophecy.
— Then I'll tear the answers out of you… even if I have to rip every word from your throat. — Tekio's voice hardened.
They lunged at him.
One spun with twin blades; the other struck from behind.
But Tekio was no longer the same boy. He moved like lightning—dodging one strike, parrying another with his arm wrapped in energy.
He fought not only with skill… but with memory.
He remembered the first punch he ever took from Dan.
The first time Mei yelled at him.
Akira's grin.
The day Aisha called him a "promise."
And that power… came from all of it. From them. From those bonds.
He surged forward with a kick, his foot slamming into a Reaper's gut and hurling him backward.
The other lunged—but Tekio met him head-on with a punch that shattered his jaw, the sound of bone cracking echoing through the charged air.
One fell. The other's arm snapped under Tekio's grasp.
He slammed him to the ground, pressing down with raw fury.
— Why are you here?! What are you doing?! — he roared, his eyes burning with blue-white energy.
— The end… has begun. After the Imperators' deaths… the Sifs will be hunted. Erased. — the Reaper croaked, coughing blood.
— What?! — Tekio shouted. — What's really happening?!
— Mei is dead… and the King… has returned… — were his final words.
Tekio's eyes trembled. His jaw clenched tight.
Before he could respond, another voice pierced the air.
— Some Sifs are more troublesome than I expected...
A man stepped through the red mist, carrying another nearly lifeless body slung over his shoulder.
Tekio felt it instantly — the faint pulse of familiar energy.
A Sif.
Still alive. Barely.
The man tossed the body onto the ground. Crimson, impure energy bled from his hands.
Tekio turned toward him, fists tightening.
— I don't have time for this. Come. — he said, voice low and resolute.
The duel erupted.
Steel against energy. Flesh against fury.
Each blow was lethal — swift, primal, filled with killing intent.
On the other side of the park, the world seemed to fall apart.
Tenklyn and Dante clashed like gods.
The earth wept beneath their feet, the sky tore open in silence, and reality itself trembled around the weight of their blows.
Tenklyn no longer possessed human eyes. His pupils burned with an unstable golden light — embers of a soul set aflame. His right arm had been destroyed minutes earlier, yet rebuilt through raw ether — a pulsating mass of energy beating in rhythm with the fury of his heart. Every step cracked the ground as though the planet itself were about to split in two. Every movement radiated murderous intent, intertwined with indescribable pain.
Before him, Dante smiled.
But it was no longer a smile of mockery.
It was fascination.
— This… this is getting fun. — murmured the dark emperor, his words wrapped in black smoke that wavered with the heat around him. — You're falling apart inside, Tenklyn. And yet… you still advance.
Black flames danced across the sky like hungry serpents. Trees exploded into fragments of burning wood. The southern park, once teeming with life, became a wasteland of ash and ruin.
And even amidst destruction, within Tenklyn, a voice persisted.
Protect. Fight. Endure.
It was the voice of his sister, echoing through his most sacred memories.
A bond that transcended time — a silent promise forged through nights of pain and days of hope.
If she were alive… if I fail… everyone will pay the price.
Even if it costs my heart. My soul. My entire being.
The ether surrounding Tenklyn roared.
He screamed — a cry that tore through the fields and shattered stone beneath his feet — and his body blazed. It wasn't just power. It was soul. It was everything he was, condensed into a single, pure flame.
He charged forward, tearing through the air, and seized Dante by the throat with a hand made of pure light.
And dragged him.
Dragged him as if hauling a demon back into the abyss.
Each impact against the ground made the world quake. Trees were crushed. Stone evaporated. The land split open with wounds that would never heal.
Blazing and unrelenting, Tenklyn lifted Dante toward the heavens. The atmosphere roared at their speed. Time itself seemed to bend to his will.
High above — where only gods dare to tread — he stopped.
His eyes closed.
Tears slipped silently down his burning face.
And he remembered.
His mother Helara.
A former Monarch — one of the strongest Sif to ever walk the earth.
A wall that finally yielded to sickness and time.
He remembered her gentle smile and the words that shaped his soul:
"You are strong, my son. So use your strength to protect. To love. To ensure tomorrow exists."
He remembered Tekio — the boy who believed in him.
Akira — the flame that held them together.
Mei — the one who never bowed.
Dan, Aisha… Stella.
And his sister.
The one he always loved.
The one he swore to protect, even if the world collapsed around him.
His body began to tremble violently.
— Burn with me… — he whispered.
And then he exploded.
An inhuman light spread across the sky like an infernal aurora. White, golden, and blazing — as if the sun itself had been unleashed upon the atmosphere. A wave of pure ether ripped through the heavens and consumed everything below. Nothing endured.
Not shadow.
Not hatred.
Not curse.
The Reapers stopped.
The soldiers fell to their knees.
Fenra lifted her gaze in silence.
Akira turned pale.
Tekio… felt the air turn into memory — into ashes of a presence that would never return.
And, in a distant hospital… Stella—
Her eyes opened slowly.
She didn't know why… but she was crying.
The sky cried with her.
A luminous dust, almost ethereal, fell from above like diamond snow. Each particle carried fragments of Tenklyn's soul.
The world felt him depart.
Dante's body plummeted.
Charred, broken — yet smiling.
He struck the ground with a violent crash, carving a crater. But that smile…
— Magnificent… — he muttered, spitting black blood. — That was… a fantasy. A dance between titans.
Dante looked up at the ruined sky, still smiling even with his bones shattered.
— You almost killed me, Tenklyn. Almost. And for that… congratulations.
In his hands, Tenklyn's ether flickered — a small, golden sphere pulsing weakly.
— With this… — Dante whispered, pressing it against his chest — …I rewrite death.
The pure energy of creation had been corrupted.
The barrier that protected the world began to rot — cracking open with ancient, agonized groans.
Tenklyn believed he had won.
But it was already too late.
In the hospital bed, Stella wept.
Fenra, hearing her cries, turned — and saw the girl collapse.
Not in body.
But in soul.
She felt it.
The rupture.
The absence.
Because bonds of blood do not break with death.
Yet in death… there is always pain.
And Stella Zenon — warrior, leader, sister — cried like a child.
Because her brother would never return.
---
To be continued…