The Eastern Capital was falling.
The streets choked with black mist.
The air thick with ash and blood.
The last screams of the innocent echoing off ruined stone.
In the heart of the ruins,
under the shattered remnants of the Grand Cathedral,
Arin Veyla stood.
Her armor was cracked.
Her hands bled from overdrawn Sigils.
Her heart ached with every heartbeat.
But she stood.
And so did those who still believed.
Children barely old enough to hold swords.
Mothers clutching broken shields.
Wounded warriors leaning on shattered spears.
Not soldiers.
Not an army.
Only people.
Only the last stubborn flicker of resistance against the dark tide.
Arin raised her voice, hoarse but unbroken:
"This is our home.
This is our last breath.
If we fall —
we fall standing.
If we die —
we die remembered.
FOR THE LIGHT!"
A broken, defiant roar rose from the defenders.
Weak.
Trembling.
Beautiful.
Far above, standing at the shattered edge of the city,
Asura watched.
The Abyss seethed behind him —
a living, breathing sea of nightmares waiting for his command.
The System flickered:
[Eastern Capital Resistance: 4%.]
[Dominion Proximity: Immediate.]
[Recommended Action: Complete Annihilation.]
But Asura ignored the System.
This was no longer about strategy.
No longer about conquest.
This was something… personal.
The stubborn light still refused to die.
And it angered him.
It fascinated him.
It called to the part of him he had buried deep under blood and ruin.
Without a word,
Asura stepped forward.
He didn't command the Abyss.
He didn't need to.
The black tide parted for him —
monsters and corrupted soldiers falling silent as he moved through their ranks.
Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
Arin saw him approach.
The darkness walking like a man.
The Abyss Monarch.
Her final enemy.
Her hands trembled around her sword.
Her Light Sigil pulsed weakly in her chest,
the forbidden magic burning her from the inside out.
Still she stood.
Still she faced him.
The defenders tightened their formation behind her.
Children.
Wounded.
Broken souls.
And her.
Asura crossed the battlefield alone.
Every step killing the grass.
Cracking the stone.
Souring the air.
He moved without hurry.
Without fear.
Without pity.
When he reached the first line of defenders,
they attacked.
Spears thrust.
Sigils ignited.
Screams tore the air.
It didn't matter.
Asura moved like a god of death.
Each swipe of his hand shattered bones.
Each flare of his aura melted weapons.
Each glance broke wills.
Dozens fell in seconds.
Not because they were weak.
Because he was inevitable.
Arin surged forward.
Her Light Sigil flaring —
a brilliant, blinding shield of white and gold crashing against the incoming darkness.
She struck.
A desperate blow.
A beautiful strike.
A symbol of defiance.
Asura raised one finger.
Stopped her blade in midair.
The force of the impact threw her backward —
slamming her into a crumbling pillar.
Pain exploded across her spine.
Blood filled her mouth.
Still, she rose.
Still, she stood.
Asura tilted his head slightly.
Studied her.
Curious.
Amused.
Almost… sad.
Without speaking,
he stepped closer.
Arin braced herself,
gathering the last scraps of her light into a single, desperate attack.
Her arms shook.
Her soul cracked.
Her body screamed.
And she unleashed it.
A wave of pure blinding light —
so bright it tore through the mist, the ash, the broken night.
For a moment —
a heartbeat —
the darkness recoiled.
The Abyss flinched.
Asura stood in the heart of the storm.
Unmoving.
Unbroken.
The light scorched his skin.
Tore at his markings.
Tried to unravel the Abyss inside him.
It failed.
Slowly, inexorably,
he stepped through the light.
Arin's heart shattered.
Her soul wept.
But her hands did not fall.
Asura reached her.
Paused a breath away.
For the first time,
their eyes met without distance.
Without armies.
Without illusions.
Just two souls.
Two broken children wearing crowns of blood and dreams.
Asura spoke.
A voice like a grave being dug into the bones of the earth:
"You could have ruled beside me."
Arin smiled through bloodied lips.
A broken, radiant, beautiful smile.
And whispered back:
"Then we both would have been monsters."
The wind screamed around them.
The world shuddered.
And the final battle truly began.