June could hardly believe what she was seeing.
Arlon had won.
Even though she had trusted he would—trusted that he could—this was the final boss fight. The one everything had built up to. The one that should have been impossible.
Yet here Asef was, kneeling on the cracked ground, bleeding, broken.
It felt... almost too easy.
But June knew better. She hadn't forgotten what Arlon had gone through to stand here. Decades spent alone in the Tower, clawing his way through all to prepare for this very day.
Still, seeing it—seeing Asef, the invincible enemy, so thoroughly defeated—made the reality of their victory feel foreign, almost fragile.
Across the battlefield, Arlon was already moving.
His eyes scanned every inch of the wrecked plains, cautious and sharp. Even though he had won, he wasn't letting down his guard for a second.
He had seen enough tricks. Enough fake defeats. Enough enemies who played dead only to lunge at the first moment of weakness.
