The demonic presence emanating from the temple was dense, suffocating. Even the air felt heavier, charged with an ancient, malevolent energy. They had finally arrived.
The group kept their distance, observing the colossal structure. The Reapers' temple was more than a building—it was a living fortress, pulsing with spiritual presences. Reapers of all levels moved within, protecting something—or someone.
A joint plan was beginning to form, but before any tactics could be drawn, Aisha stood up.
With the calm of one who had already decided her own fate, she spoke, her voice serene as a blade before the cut:
— I will kill them all alone. Just cover me out here.
A disconcerting silence fell over the group. They all exchanged surprised glances.
Dan was the first to protest:
— That's insane. Aisha, there's no way you...
But Fenra interrupted him, firmly:
— She is an Empress, Dan. She didn't earn that title for nothing. If she says she can do it, she can.
Stella kept her gaze fixed on Aisha, worried, but said nothing. There was something in the Empress's eyes that spoke more than a thousand words. Absolute determination.
Tekio watched the scene, but something else unsettled him. The energy around was vibrating. Yara, inside him, was trying to show him something. He saw glimpses... symbols, shadows, furious winds—but he didn't understand yet.
Aisha continued:
— Then it's decided. I'll attack alone. With my energy, I can cover a large area. Dante is far away. Right after, we go after the woman with the marks on her face. This is our chance. Let's not waste it.
Everyone nodded, still in silence. Aisha then walked to the edge of the building they were on. The temple rose before her like a slumbering giant.
She raised her arms.
Her power exploded.
An incandescent aura, vast and powerful, swept the area, enveloping the temple in a reddish glow. As if covering everything with a mantle of judgment.
Fenra approached, carrying something wrapped in black cloth.
— You might need this — she said.
It was a medium-length sword, elegant, with segmented blades. Light, but lethal. Aisha recognized it immediately. One of the first weapons she had wielded as a novice Sif.
She smiled wryly.
— Ironic… this blade… will reap you all.
She leaped from the edge with the lightness of a leaf in the wind. In the air, memories flooded her.
When she was young, she did everything to escape her homeland. Risky missions. Betrayals. At the first opportunity, she abandoned her squad and fled. She almost died for it—if not for Mei Nuhay and Tenklyn, who happened to be on a nearby mission. Two Sifs saving a Reaper they didn't even know if they could trust.
Mei believed the world could be governed without massacres. That the Reapers, even corrupted, were still family to Aisha. She believed that, with time, they could be purified. She believed in Aisha.
— I'm sorry, Mei... — she murmured, as her feet touched the ground.
The temple entrance was just ahead. Four guards. Cold stares. Sharp weapons.
There was no hesitation.
Aisha raised the sword.
And the four bodies fell dead before they even understood what hit them.
The door exploded in flames.
Inside, the temple's main hall was bustling. Reapers sharpened their weapons, conversed. But they all stopped upon seeing her enter. The Sif symbol on her chest shone like an insult.
One of the wounded guards was still breathing, spitting blood:
— She... she's a Sif! Kill her... immediately...
His words died with him.
All eyes turned to Aisha, now in deadly silence. She walked among them with slow steps.
— You don't understand... — she murmured. — I lured you all here… just to kill every one of you.
The blade in her hand extended. Grew like a living serpent.
The first spin cut seven Reapers at once. The hall plunged into chaos.
The massacre had begun.
Aisha danced among the bodies, her sword becoming an extension of her rage. There was no hesitation. No mercy. Screams mixed with the sounds of breaking bones, clashing blades, and blood flowing like rain.
She remembered the training. The torture. The contempt from her own family for not possessing a demonic gift. A failure to the clan.
But Mei had told her a forgotten truth: the Reapers weren't always monsters. Before Azaroth—before the cult—they were scholars, warriors, spiritual guardians like the Sifs. But the evil leader deformed everything, turning the lineage into a sect of fanatics and murderers.
Mei wanted to reform the world. Changing politics from the bottom up.
She said she needed Aisha's help to become an absolute leader, a sole and supreme monarch of the Sifs. And after that, she would help Aisha become the leader of the Reapers and help her restore the honor of a clan that had fallen into the wrong hands.
They would be two absolute Empresses.
But now, Aisha no longer believed in redemption.
She believed in fire.
And blood.
— I will reform this shitty clan by force — she shouted, sweeping the hall with an attack that opened a crater in the floor.
— I will destroy everything.
Aisha's aura filled every corner, suffocating the enemies' energy. They were no longer warriors—they were puppets. Prey awaiting slaughter.
A Reaper tried to scream, his technique dissolving in his throat:
— It's suffocating…!
His head rolled across the floor.
Every memory, every betrayal, every promise—was another blade cutting flesh.
Aisha, the Exiled Empress, was now the storm in the temple's heart.
And the temple... began to crumble.
The blades on the floor still trembled. The warm blood of the last Reapers vaporized under Aisha's spiritual pressure as she walked through the hall now covered in corpses and fragments of shattered masks. The golden aura surrounding her merged with the crimson around her, as if the temple were being forcibly purified—or cursed anew, by another light.
She stopped in the center of the temple's great atrium, where an ancient engraving depicted the "Unification of the Three Clans." It had been defaced with demonic symbols and dried blood.
Aisha stared at the high ceiling, covered in shadows. And then… she felt it.
— They've come… — she murmured.
An immense presence filled the space. Not one, but several.
Side doors opened with brutal cracks. In total, seven figures advanced, each surrounded by their battalions—thirty, forty soldiers total. They wore dark ceremonial armor adorned with bones, spikes, spiritual flames, and sealing amulets.
One of the Reaper captains and his team had arrived.
By a twist of fate, they were Aisha's younger siblings.
He emerged—Zouden, of the Red Blade, descended from above like a predator. His body, covered in cuts, still bled slowly; the red blade at his waist pulsed in anticipation.
— Quiet now, girl — he said, his tone almost calm. — The blade was right. You would lure us with your stench of betrayal.
To the left, Krow, the youngest, let out short, restless laughs, staring at Aisha with hungry eyes.
— So it's you… The feared sister who escaped the golden cage, turned her back on our family, and now wants to purify us? — He spun his fists, covered in cutting chains. — I can't wait to rip that look of superiority off your face.
Miran, cold as ice, crossed her arms. Her hair stirred with a silent purple aura.
— Do you have any idea what you caused? How many died because of your absence? Your weakness? You were our bridge. And you chose to burn everything out of pride.
Aisha remained motionless. The segmented sword in her hand still dripped blood. Her chest rose and fell slowly.
— I didn't flee out of pride — she replied. — I fled so I wouldn't become one of you. So I wouldn't look in the mirror and see monsters like the ones here now.
Spiritual roars echoed from the battalions. The Captains' soldiers began to stir, indignant.
A Reaper with black fangs shouted:
— You betrayed your clan! Killed our brothers! There is no redemption in the impure blood you carry!
Another spat on the ground:
— Sif bitch... you think just because Mei Nuhay touched you, you can come back and judge us?
Zouden took a step forward, his eyes burning.
— The only thing that will purify this hall is your blood. And that of all your new friends. Those Sifs... that boy, Dan... the woman with the chains... they will fall too.
Miran added:
— And when it's all over, I myself will bury the pieces of your body at the altar of our home. To remind future Reapers what happens to deserters.
Aisha spun the sword between her fingers, lowering her center of gravity. The cold smile returned to the corner of her mouth.
— I didn't come to negotiate. I came to demolish. And if you think the family that abandoned me will break my spirit… you don't know me anymore.
The aura around her exploded, like a volcano of light and spiritual fire.
The Reapers instinctively recoiled.
Zouden laughed loudly, drawing his blade, which screamed with him.
— Let's dance, then… sister.
To be continued…