Starbrigde
Ogier Tower, Kleito city
Agartha, Anu Solar system
Pleiades Galaxy
Divine Federation
Pan 19th Y-1889 C.E
Jonathan Haravok walked among the corpses of his comrades, his footsteps heavy as ashes and dust swirled through the air, masking much of the damage done to the Control post at Ogier Tower. He still couldn't comprehend how things had spiraled so horribly out of control. For years, he had braced himself for some form of attack from the activists, thinking he was prepared. But their surprise assault had caught him completely off guard. The attack on Starlight Temple, where most of the members of the Stellar Council had gathered, was something Jonathan had never even considered a possibility.
Starlight Temple was a sacred ground—sacred to both the Starlight Order and the religion of Annunaki. It was a place where the people of Agartha came to worship the Divine Emperor, where pilgrims from various quadrants of the Universe arrived to learn about the gods of the Annunaki pantheon. It was also the resting place of the Twelve Saints.
Jonathan had naively assumed that due to the oaths the activists had sworn, they would never cross such a line. He had been wrong. If one were to break an oath, attacking the very site where they had sworn it seemed like the most fitting betrayal. Not to mention the theft of the holy relic centered around the worship of the Divine Emperor.
Jonathan's mind raced as he processed everything that had happened, so much of it beyond belief. Yet the most troubling thing of all was the feeling in his gut when he had confronted the leader of the Activist forces. It was that nagging sensation that had driven him to chase them to Ogier Tower.
A faint cough broke Jonathan's focus, pulling him back from his memories. Among the bodies, he spotted one of the Sentinels still alive, his blood pooling beneath him. His helmet was gone, and Jonathan could see his pale face, slick with sweat, blonde hair matted with blood. The man's mouth opened, and Jonathan could see the effort it took to speak.
"Shh..." Jonathan whispered, placing a hand gently on the dying man's shoulder, trying to stop him from expending what little energy he had left. His eyes were dimming, fading. Jonathan could see the man's struggle to stay alive, but the wound was too deep. As a non-awakened, the man's regenerative abilities weren't enough to save him.
"It's okay," Jonathan murmured. "You don't have to fight anymore. Sleep, and let Irkalla take you to the next life." The man's eyelids fluttered closed, and Jonathan stood, offering him a final moment of peace.
A flash of light through the window caught Jonathan's attention. Across from the Rainbow Bridge, on the other side of the Xeta Beam portal, five figures stood. The Fallen was about to escape with the stolen item. Without hesitation, Jonathan unsheathed his sword, Solus, and moved toward the bridge.
"I cannot let you leave with that," Jonathan called to the Fallen.
The Fallen turned, his lips curving into a chuckle that sent a strange wave of nostalgia through Jonathan.
"You're fast," the Fallen said. He passed the item to someone beside him. Jonathan's eyes widened as he saw the figure—James Sinclair. Standing next to him was his wife, Sophia Sinclair, holding their baby girl. Jonathan couldn't believe it. He had hoped...prayed that it wouldn't be true...
"James, what's the meaning of this?" Jonathan demanded. "Are you going to just abandon your family, your House..."
James Sinclair said nothing. He didn't even look at Jonathan. There was a look of resignation on his face as he tried his best not to look at Jonathan.
"You know what to do with the Crown," the Fallen said to James. James gave a stiff nod, and he turned, dragging Sophia and their child toward the portal. They vanished into the light. The remaining two figures hesitated for a moment, but the Fallen cleared his throat, his voice cool and commanding.
"Titus, Henri, go on," the Fallen instructed. "I'll handle the Admiral myself."
Titus and Henri exchanged a glance before entering the portal. The Fallen pulled two short swords from his cloak, revealing them to be Seriphium blades—divine weapons of immense power. Jonathan's grip tightened around Solus. The Fallen's mana was massive and potent, on par with that of an Admiral. Jonathan wasn't surprised; the trap spell had been deadly, and the Fallen's strength matched that level.
"Who are you?" Jonathan demanded. "I'm not aware of any Paladin with a Harmonization Realm cultivation who wasn't an Admiral."
"I'm not a Paladin," the Fallen replied coldly. "I gave that up years ago."
"So you were once a Paladin," Jonathan said, his voice tinged with disbelief. The wind howled through the bridge, and Jonathan could sense storm clouds gathering overhead as explosions rang out around the city below. "Do you think this is right? Putting innocent lives in danger?"
"Sacrifices are part of life," the Fallen answered without hesitation. "Fortunately, heroes like you exist, even within a corrupt institution like the Divine Federation."
"Are you saying you counted on me to save the lives you've threatened?" Jonathan shot back, anger rising in his chest.
"Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe I knew that as the last remaining Admiral, you would prioritize the lives of citizens over the old regime," the Fallen said with a slight grin. "And now, lives have been saved because of you. You're a hero through and through, Jonathan Haravok
"I'm not interested in being a hero," Jonathan growled, his voice low and sharp.
Without hesitation, he surged forward, swinging his blade in a deadly arc. The Fallen was ready. He intercepted the strike with the short sword in his right hand, his movements almost too fast to follow. In a seamless counter, the Fallen launched an upward kick toward Jonathan, his left foot moving with devastating precision. Jonathan raised his arm to block, but the force behind the kick sent a shockwave rippling across the bridge.
The Rainbow Bridge shuddered violently, the sky itself seeming to tremble. Thunder cracked, and lightning split the night as the storm clouds above darkened further, responding to the clash of their unleashed power. Golden and crimson lights flashed across the bridge, illuminating the battleground as the two warriors fought with a speed and ferocity no ordinary eye could follow. Jonathan pressed his attack, his strikes sharp and relentless, but the Fallen matched him move for move.
Each parry came with a speed that rivaled Jonathan's, a feat that unsettled him. Jonathan Haravok was known as the fastest mortal in the universe, yet this man—this Fallen—could keep up. Something about the Fallen was off. Jonathan could feel it in the flow of his mana, in the way his movements carried an eerie familiarity. The rhythm of their duel stirred something buried deep within Jonathan—a memory, or perhaps a feeling, long forgotten. Not since— Focus on the battle, Jonathan snapped at himself. Now wasn't the time for distractions. He had to end this here and now. The Holy relic must be recovered, no matter the cost.
Gathering a surge of Od from the atmosphere at the tip of Solus, Jonathan unleashed a concentrated blast of energy. The golden light roared toward the Fallen, a radiant explosion that could have leveled mountains. But the Fallen was ready. A shield of red energy, layered four times over, materialized in an instant, absorbing the attack. The force shattered the shield with a deafening BANG, but the Fallen moved before the dust settled.
Jonathan followed up, releasing two compressed heat blades. The first was dodged with ease, but the second grazed the Fallen, slashing his chest. Blood spilled from the wound, dark and vibrant against the night, yet the Fallen didn't falter. The bridge trembled further as the Fallen called upon his Mystical power. Shattered pieces of the Rainbow Bridge lifted into the air, encased in red energy, before rocketing toward Jonathan. With a burst of speed, Jonathan ascended, Solus burning with golden light. Each swing of his sword disintegrated the projectiles into nothing but ash. But the rocks had been a distraction. The real attack came next.
[Flame Creation: Dragon's Breath!]
The Fallen chanted, his voice reverberating with power.
A colossal inferno, shaped into a roaring dragon, surged toward Jonathan. The heat was unlike anything he had ever faced, its intensity enough to sear through even his heat-resistant body. The flaming construct slammed into him, sending him hurtling back to the bridge. The impact cratered the surface, a cloud of smoke and debris rising into the air. The Fallen exhaled, his mana reserves visibly drained from the attack. But his reprieve was short-lived.
A golden light erupted from the smoke, and Jonathan emerged, his aura blazing brighter than ever. His body, now encased in golden armor forged from pure Odic energy, shone like a second sun. In an instant, he was upon the Fallen, delivering a devastating slash with Solus. The impact shattered the Fallen's twin blades, sending him flying into the wall near the portal.
The Fallen crumpled to his knees, coughing up blood. A deep gash marred his chest, blood pouring from the wound like a fountain. Yet even as Jonathan prepared to strike again, the sound of hissing steam filled the air. The gash began to close, healing at a speed that defied belief. The Fallen stood once more, his crimson aura flaring around him like a living thing, mirroring Jonathan's golden light. The sheer force of their combined power triggered earthquakes and seaquakes across the region.
The Fallen raised his hand, summoning a greatsword. The weapon materialized with a menacing aura, its hilt shaped like a bone and its guard a skull, flames pouring from its hollow sockets. Reddish runes etched along the blade glowed with power, a force that rivaled the divine energy of Solus. Their clash threatened the very fabric of existence. If they continued here, Agartha would be destroyed.
Jonathan made his decision. In one fluid motion, Jonathan stepped forward, closing the distance in an instant. He grabbed the Fallen by the face and, with a surge of strength, hurled him into the sky. The force sent the Fallen hurtling past Agartha's atmosphere, beyond the planet's defense sphere. Out in the cold vacuum of space, the Fallen stabilized himself, halting his momentum with practiced ease. The absence of oxygen was irrelevant; the mana coursing through his veins sustained him.
"I suppose this is better than down there," the Fallen remarked, his tone calm despite his wounds.
"The time for speaking is over," Jonathan replied coldly.
Solus erupted into a blade of plasmic light, and the golden aura surrounding Jonathan condensed into a radiant suit of armor. He became a blinding beacon, his light cutting through the darkness of space. The Fallen's aura intensified in response, a fiery crimson shroud that burned with the wrath of a dragon. The clash of their energies was cataclysmic. As their auras collided, cracks formed in the very fabric of space and time. Reality itself seemed to buckle under the strain. Then came the explosion—a blinding burst of white light that consumed the void, stretching across the stars and beyond