The Story had done its part.
A voyage that fell into peril and doom had completed its course. The team of extras had fulfilled their roles—blood spilled, screams spent, sacrifices made—and a few more important pieces still lived.
So the Story loosened its grip.
It didn’t need to push anymore.
It didn’t need to guide anymore.
It simply… let go.
And when the Story let go, it allowed what had been waiting underneath it to rise.
The curse did the rest.
A curse that had grown this strong in such a short amount of time wasn’t just a problem anymore—it was an anomaly. A wrongness. A stain that reality couldn’t ignore. It had ripened too fast. Fed too hard. Taken too much.
And that kind of thing gathered attention.
Not from people.
From the land itself.
It was already on its way.
Not to fight.
Not to negotiate.
To end everything.
———
Tinsurnae staggered through the wrecked ship, feet crunching over glass, twisted metal, and bodies.
The Story was fading.
And with it… the pressure.
The invisible hand that had pinned her in place—kept her “out of frame,” kept her as a piece on standby—finally loosened. She could move again. It had done it on purpose, she realized. It had kept her out of the fight until the outcome it wanted was set in stone.
She clenched her fist.
Great.
Now she was left walking through the aftermath, searching for auras just to see who survived—because around her, death was everywhere.
Then—
A pulse of energy ripped toward her like a spear.
Tinsurnae jerked sideways, the blast shaving past her shoulder and detonating behind her. Instinct took over. She snapped her hand out and fired back—
A shot of Purple Ryun.
She froze for half a heartbeat.
Purple?
Her Ryun was usually green.
But there wasn’t time to question it. Not now.
Inky spikes erupted from the floor.
Tinsurnae dodged them easily—too easily—
And stepped straight into an embrace.
Her body locked.
She turned her head, confused, and for the first time since the Story began loosening its grip, she felt something worse than violence.
How—when did someone get behind me? She thought.
The woman holding her was tall, elegant and composed. She had a certain kind of beauty. Grace shaped into menace.
Her robe was blinding white, laced with crimson thorns that pulsed and grew like veins under skin. Across the fabric, ink shifted constantly—lines of scripture and glyphs rearranging themselves every second, rewriting themselves like a living doctrine.
Her eyes glowed faintly.
And when she spoke, her voice wasn’t loud.
It didn’t need to be.
It was command given shape.
“Del Tekk Del Telk Buni Monteni….”
Tinsurnae’s eyes went wide. She recognized the enchantment the woman started chanting—a Rituain technique that wasn’t meant for battle.
This wasn’t what the Givena wanted.
But the Beast commanded it.
The air thickened. The glyphs on her robe brightened. The thorns flexed like they were tasting blood in the air.
Her body became a coffin.
An Encasement.
And it began to absorb Tinsurnae.
Tinsurnae fought back—Purple Ryun trying to rise, trying to bite, trying to tear her free—
But she saw it.
Just for a second.
That pause.
That wrong stillness.
The gold-blue light.
The Story froze her again.
Not long. Just long enough to matter.
Long enough for the Encasement to finish swallowing her whole.
Givena kept chanting.
And inside her own chest, she was breaking.
Because inside the prison of her own skin, she was crying.
This wasn’t fair.
She had done everything right.
So why was she being compelled to act?
Why was she still able to think independently—still able to feel, to rage, to mourn—while her Ryun and aura worked against her, forcing her body to solidify into the perfect container?
Why give her awareness…
For sinister enjoyment?
Her vision blurred as she kept chanting anyway.
She hoped Cale would succeed in stopping the Blood Prince.
She hoped Civen would succeed in bringing consequence to the Jujisn—those who destroyed the region, who killed her people, who made her homeland a graveyard.
She hoped someone would remember.
And then she died, with Tinsurnae screaming as she was sealed inside the corpse.
No battle.
No glory.
No choice.
She died so she could be useful to a being that had already forgotten her name.
Yet as the last of her life drained away, her anguish didn’t vanish.
It sank.
It bled into the land.
Her hatred soaked into Curtenail like poison into soil. Empowering the being that would arrive next.
And now it would come stronger.
————
Kiera’s scream tore through the wreckage like a siren.
“BEBELE! I’LL KILL YOU!!”
She was barely clothed—what was left of her outfit clinging to her like torn paper—because her body was changing too fast for fabric to keep up. Muscles swelled over muscle, veins standing out as her rage spiked higher and higher. Every breath looked like it hurt.
Bebele didn’t even fight back.
He just stared up at her, stunned, as if his mind still hadn’t caught up to what his body had done.
Kiera slammed him down and wrapped her hands around his throat, choking the small, thumb-shaped figure like she was trying to crush a confession out of him.
His ringed ears hummed weakly.
Kiera’s eyes trembled with fury and grief. “WHY!?”
His ears buzzed again, louder—more desperate.
“I didn’t… want to…”
“WHY?!” she screamed again, voice cracking. “Why would you betray us?! We were a family!”
She pointed with a shaking hand toward the shattered ship and the annihilated landscape beyond it.
“You betrayed our goddess!”
Her finger jabbed the air like it could stab the past.
“You soiled the Occulted Moon name and YOU—”
Her throat seized.
“YOU MURDERED LYTHRA!”
And then she started hitting him.
Not one punch.
Not two.
Punch after punch after punch after punch—her fists landing with everything she had left in her soul. Bebele’s body jerked with every strike, but he didn’t defend himself. Didn’t plead. Didn’t even flinch away.
He just let it happen.
Caroline rushed in and grabbed Kiera from behind, hauling her back with her tails braced like anchors.
“Stop!” Caroline snapped. “Kiera, stop!”
Kiera thrashed against her, feral. “Why are you stopping me?!”
Caroline held her tighter, voice sharp with confusion. “Why are you attacking Bebele?!”
Kiera twisted, eyes bloodshot. “Because this piece of shit caused ALL of this!”
Caroline froze.
“What…?”
Kiera’s words came out jagged, broken by sobs she refused to admit were there. “He gagged me. He sabotaged the ship. He—he led them right to us.”
Caroline’s mouth parted, disbelief hitting like a delayed injury. “Bebele… why?”
Bebele’s ears hummed again, but this time it sounded… thin and weak.
“I didn’t want to,” he whispered.
His ears rasped with the effort of each word. “I would never… I don’t know what happened. I just… I had rules, and I followed.”
He shook, and the sound that came out of him was a broken hum.
“But I was awake,” he said. “It was like watching something move me.”
His ears buzzed, struggling through the apology like his body couldn’t carry the weight of it.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry…”
Then an odd hum filled the air—soft, trembling uncontrollably.
Caroline’s eyes widened.
Bebele was crying.
And so was Kiera.
Kiera stopped fighting Caroline’s hold, not because she calmed down—because the anger finally crashed into grief and shattered. Her body shook violently, and she covered her face like she couldn’t bear the fact that she still couldn’t bring herself to finish it.
Caroline swallowed hard, holding her own tears back with a strength that felt harder than any fight.
“Do you know who caused this?” Caroline asked quietly.
Bebele’s ears drooped.
“No.”
His voice turned smaller. “But… I want to die.”
Kiera made a sound between a sob and a laugh. “I… I can’t.”
Caroline lifted one of her tails.
It hovered.
Flame crackling at the tip.
But her hand trembled.
She didn’t want to do it either.
Bebele looked up at them, ears shaking, voice pleading.
“Please.”
He sounded like the word tore him apart.
“I can’t trust myself.”
His ears hummed louder, the confession spilling out faster now, desperate.
“I failed Ozzy. I failed Tabia. I failed our goddess Mi’Lentra.”
His shoulders caved inward.
“I have nothing more to give.”
Kiera dropped to her knees beside him, sobbing openly now, her rage had finally exhausted itself and left only the wound underneath.
Bebele forced himself upright.
His small body looked battered beyond what it should’ve been able to endure—bruised, dented, trembling like the next breath might snap him in half. He took a step back.
Then another.
If they wouldn’t do it… then he would.
Thump.
The women blinked.
“Huh…?”
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
His body jolted as something pierced through him—again and again. The wounds bloomed too fast to understand. His ears hummed once, weak and fading, like a dying bell.
His life started to drain away.
And to his own surprise…
He was happy.
Bebele turned his head, meeting Kiera’s gaze one last time.
His final words came out like a breath that barely existed.
“I’m… so sorry. Please tell Ozzy I didn’t mean it. Long live the Occulted Moon.” He then fell back.
S?urtinaui stood over him, blood dripping from her dagger.
Kiera caught him as he fell, clutching his body to her chest like she could hold the moment together through sheer force. And as she did, memories flooded her—training, laughter, arguments, nights on watch, the stupid little routines only family understood.
S?urtinaui stared down, confused—her face hard, but her eyes uncertain.
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Caroline stepped in, voice hoarse. “He begged us. He… he wanted to die. He couldn’t trust himself anymore.”
S?urtinaui’s shoulders sank. She released a long breath and stepped forward, ready to apologize—
But Kiera shook her head, tears still falling.
“It’s what he wanted,” she whispered, voice breaking. “So… thank you. Thank you for putting my friend to rest.”
Out of the four hundred members of the Occulted Moon…
Only ten survived so far. Mekiea wasn’t seen—couldn’t be felt—but Caroline prayed he was okay.
Tengen survived the ordeal.
Then Caroline’s eyes finally landed on S?urtinaui’s figure properly—and she freaked out.
“Oh my—S?urtinaui, your face—!”
S?urtinaui’s left cheek was split open, a brutal cut running from lip to ear. Right arm was missing entirely. Her body was a map of damage—burns, bruises, and deep slashes.
S?urtinaui spoke like it didn’t matter. “I killed the swordswoman who did it. Apparently they were after Jack.”
Caroline swallowed hard, then nodded, almost stunned by her. “I killed a fire wielder. She said she wanted revenge on Jack as well…”
At the name, the air shifted.
“Speaking of which…” Caroline looked around, searching the wreckage. “Where the hell is Jack?”
No one answered.
Kiera wiped her face with the back of her hand, still holding Bebele. “He’s not dead,” she said quietly. “I doubt he’d let himself die.”
They called out for anyone alive.
“Jack!”
“Mekiea!”
Nothing.
Only the groan of broken metal and the wind moving through the wreck.
Maybe the fight took Jack elsewhere.
But then the next question hit them like a colder punch.
“…Where’s Tinny?” Caroline asked, voice dropping.
They searched again—auras, traces, anything.
Nothing.
No Ryun signature.
No presence.
Just… gone.
And with only a handful of them left—wounded, exhausted, barely standing—nothing about what came next would be easy.
Kiera stared down at Bebele’s body, voice hollow.
“What the hell even was that…?” she whispered. “Everything just went to shit for no reason.”
Her grip tightened.
Then she looked up, eyes full of grief and rage all over again.
“It was whatever possessed him. It had to be!”
Caroline and S?urtinaui kept moving through the wreckage, stepping over twisted steel and scorched bodies while their eyes hunted for any trace of aura—anything that proved Jack and Tinsurnae still existed somewhere in this disaster.
“What do you mean… possessed?” S?urtinaui asked, voice tight. “How does that even happen?”
Kiera didn’t look up. She was still holding Bebele like letting go would make it real. “I don’t know,” she rasped. “He kept saying he didn’t want to. That he was awake… but something else was moving him.”
Caroline’s expression hardened. “Then it wasn’t him. Not fully.”
She paused, swallowing against a lump in her throat as her eyes scanned the wrecked hallways. “And Lythra…? Where is she?”
The second the question left her mouth, the air shifted.
No one answered at first.
Then Kiera’s voice came out broken.
“She’s dead.”
Caroline’s breath caught. “No…”
“Bebele killed her,” Kiera forced out, like saying it was another punch she had to survive.
Caroline turned away so fast it almost looked like anger.
But it wasn’t.
It was grief.
A sound strangled in her throat—half sob, half gasp—before she clamped her jaw shut and kept walking, flames trembling at the tips of her tails like they could feel her shaking.
Everyone was exhausted. Ten survivors out of four hundred. Injured, bleeding, carrying losses so fresh they still felt unreal.
S?urtinaui tried to ground them anyway, voice steady through pain. “We need a plan. We can’t keep wandering. If Jack’s alive, he’ll regroup. If Tinsurnae—”
She stopped.
Because something moved.
No—
Something fell.
A shadow crashed down beside them with a violent impact that shook the ground and kicked up a ring of ash and dust. The ground cratered outward, stones hopping like they’d been struck by lightning.
All of them spun at once.
Caroline’s flames flared instinctively.
S?urtinaui stepped forward, one-handed, ready.
Kiera’s aura rose like a snarl.
And out of the crater…
A black figure emerged.
The presence coming off it didn’t feel like a mortal.
It felt like a verdict.
Caroline’s eyes widened as text—cold and unmistakable—floated above the being’s head.
Her voice barely worked.
“…No way.”
She took one step back.
And whispered the name like it was a curse in itself.
“The Land’s Herald.”
“Who—”
Kiera didn’t even get the question out.
The Herald moved.
A single burst of black spikes pulsed outward and five members of the Occulted Moon were erased on contact. No scream. No fight. Just bodies collapsing mid-step like their souls had been turned off.
The rest of them were thrown back like dolls.
Caroline slammed into a wall hard enough to crack it, her vision flashing white—
But something pulled her up.
Arms wrapped around her waist and yanked her out of the second impact path at the last second.
“Mekiea—?” Caroline gasped.
He was grinning like a madman, dust in his red hair.
“I’m so happy you made it!” Caroline yelled—and before Caroline could even settle, he hugged her like they weren’t in hell.
Another explosion detonated.
The shockwave ripped through them again, launching everyone across the broken ground.
The Herald didn’t hesitate.
It walked forward.
No speech.
No warning.
Just execution.
Caroline coughed, then laughed—small, sharp, almost angry.
“Oh. Okay.”
She reached into her inventory and pulled out healing potions, hands moving fast.
“ON ME IF YOU CAN!” she shouted.
The survivors converged—faces bloodied, eyes shaking, bodies barely holding together.
Caroline shoved potions into their hands. “Drink. Now.”
They did.
Heat surged through their systems like liquid fire healing tissue and forcing life back into muscles that wanted to fail.
S?urtinaui drank—and immediately noticed what didn’t change. Her cheek was still split open from lip to ear. The missing arm didn’t regrow. The damage stayed, like it was written into her instead of inflicted on her.
Her breath caught.
These wounds weren’t normal.
They weren’t even physical.
They were… deeper.
Something conceptual.
Still—her body functioned again. She could move. She could fight.
Kiera wiped blood off her mouth and stood, shaking with fury.
Tengen’s aura rose, steady and cold.
Mekiea cracked his neck like he’d been waiting for this his whole life.
And Caroline’s tails flared behind her as she stared at the black figure approaching.
The Land’s Herald.
They tightened into formation.
The last survivors left standing.
And they all took one step forward—because there was nothing else to do.
No running.
Caroline’s voice came out tight. “All… or nothing, right?”
No one answered.
They didn’t have time.
They all moved at once, doing the only thing they could do.
Attack first. Learn fast. Play it by ear.
Kiera surged forward with raw rage.
Mekiea followed with a staff he extended from his pocket. Tengen and the last Occulted Moon members rushed in from the flanks, trying to surround it, trying to force it to react.
S?urtinaui stepped forward too—
And the moment the fight started…
She felt it.
That familiar pressure in the air.
That crawling wrongness.
No.
No, no—
That wasn’t Ryun.
It wasn’t even corrupted Ryun.
It was…
Before she could finish the thought—
It happened.
Too fast.
Tengen’s head turned—
And then he was gone.
One of the two remaining members tried to retreat—
Slaughtered.
The other didn’t even get to scream.
Slaughtered.
S?urtinaui’s mouth opened—but her warning didn’t come in time.
Caroline’s eyes went wide.
Mekiea’s face turned sour.
Kiera didn’t hesitate.
“Run,” she snapped, voice shaking but absolute. “Both of you. Now.”
Caroline’s eyes snapped to her. “What—no!”
“You need to survive,” Kiera said, stepping forward like a wall. “That is the mission. And we’re going to see it through.”
Mekiea looked over his shoulder at Caroline and grinned.
“I’ll be fine.”
“No, you—” Caroline’s voice cracked. “Mekiea, No!”
“I love you.” He said smiling.
“Go!” Kiera roared back, aura flaring like she was trying to burn the word into them.
“No!” Caroline lunged forward.
S?urtinaui grabbed her.
Caroline fought her grip instantly, furious shaking. “Get OFF—!”
S?urtinaui held tight, one-armed and bleeding and still stronger than she had any right to be. Her voice was low and real.
“Don’t let them die in vain.”
Caroline froze for half a moment.
S?urtinaui’s Ryun compressed into her legs.
Verdant Pounce.
She vanished in a blur, dragging Caroline with her—launching them away from the battlefield in a desperate arc through wreckage and smoke.
Caroline thrashed in her hold, eyes wet. “S?urtinaui—STOP!”
S?urtinaui didn’t.
Because behind them—
The Herald moved again.
And the world answered with violence.
A black detonation bloomed where Kiera and Mekiea stood—silent at first, then crushingly loud. The shockwave rolled over the ship’s ruins like a guillotine dropping. The air warped. Metal screamed. The ground folded in on itself.
Caroline’s scream died in her throat.
Not because she chose to stop—
Because the pressure of it snuffed everything out.
Their auras flickered.
Then dimmed.
Then died like candles in the wind.
For a moment, there was nothing but ringing silence and falling ash.
Then…
That presence returned.
And S?urtinaui felt it creeping toward them, step by step, like the land itself had decided there would be no more running.
“…No…” Caroline’s voice was thin—like if she spoke any louder, she’d break.
S?urtinaui grabbed her wrist again. “Let’s go.”
Caroline looked at her.
Really looked.
S?urtinaui was barely holding together—face split open, arm gone, blood drying in layers. Her aura was unsteady, her breathing shallow, her stance built on willpower more than strength. And still… she was trying to carry them both.
Caroline’s throat tightened.
Jack was missing.
Tinsurnae was missing.
Kiera and Mekiea were—
She couldn’t even finish the thought.
At this point… everyone was going to die anyway.
Caroline swallowed, forcing something steady into her voice.
“Hey, S?urtinaui…”
S?urtinaui’s eyes widened. “Don’t.”
Caroline smiled through the fear.
“Don’t let Tinny fall into despair again.”
“No!” S?urtinaui yanked her closer, panic rising. “Caroline, don’t you—”
Caroline stepped in and hugged her—tight, desperate, like she was trying to leave warmth behind.
Then she pulled back just enough to look her in the eye.
“Tell North I said goodbye,” Caroline whispered.
S?urtinaui shook her head fast. “Stop talking like that.”
“And don’t forget…” Caroline’s smile trembled, but it was real. “He’s gotta defeat his cosmic daddy.”
S?urtinaui’s breath hitched.
Caroline voice cracked. “I love you my bubble butt elf. Truly… Thank you for everything. You made life worth living.”
She pushed her back—gently but firmly—creating space.
Then her body flickered.
Heat folded inward.
A sigil burned bright.
And before S?urtinaui could grab her again—
Caroline teleported away.
———
This was dumb.
Caroline knew it the second she did it—but at least S?urtinaui would survive.
It wasn’t that she thought S?urtinaui was better. Or that S?urtinaui deserved to live more than her.
No.
Caroline just… couldn’t live with herself if she let her friend die.
Not after everything.
Not after all the times they should’ve died already.
She landed hard, skidding across shattered ground, then snapped her head up as something descended through the ash like a falling omen.
Ashantiana.
Caroline’s breath caught for half a second as the figure touched down with impossible grace.
She jumped back instinctively.
“I don’t know what you—”
Ashantiana lunged.
Caroline teleported.
A blink. A flicker. Heat folding space.
She reappeared ten feet away—only for the pressure to follow.
Every single fiber in Caroline’s body screamed at her to run.
Her clairvoyance showed nothing but dead ends.
Her UI wouldn’t stop warning her.
But Caroline kept moving anyway—teleporting again, and again, dragging herself farther and farther from S?urtinaui with every jump, like distance alone could turn sacrifice into something worth it.
Ashantiana didn’t slow.
Caroline teleported again.
Further.
Further.
Sweat burned in her eyes. Her lungs tightened. Her tails trembled, flames flickering unevenly as the strain stacked up.
This wasn’t a fight.
It was a chase.
And Caroline was losing.
Ashantiana surged faster.
Enough that Caroline felt it—felt the gap disappearing like her fate had finally decided to stop pretending she had options.
So she stopped running.
Her breath tore in and out of her like she’d been sprinting through a nightmare with no exit—because she had. And now she’d hit the end of the path she chose on purpose.
She activated it anyway.
“Sigil Brawler!”
Heat surged through her frame, tails snapping up like whips as her stance lowered. Fire tightened around her fists. Her body felt lighter, yet sharper.
If she was going down…
She would go down swinging.
She was sure S?urtinaui couldn’t keep up anymore. Couldn’t intervene even if she wanted to.
So Caroline turned to face the thing chasing her.
Ashantiana stood there in silence—long black hair flowing like an oil spill against the burning air, her body wrapped in something Caroline still couldn’t define as armor or skin. It didn’t shine. It didn’t reflect. It simply… existed, swallowing light like the world owed it darkness.
And the moment Caroline attacked, the fight felt wrong.
Because she was landing hits.
She was dodging.
She was moving with perfect timing—her UI screaming warnings, her clairvoyance feeding her a half-second glimpse of survival, again and again, letting her sidestep death by inches.
But every time Caroline’s flames touched Ashantiana…
They dissolved.
Like her fire was being erased at the concept level.
Like Ashantiana wasn’t using Ryun at all.
No.
This was something else.
Sryun.
Or something close enough to make no difference.
Caroline didn’t have time to theorize.
She struck again.
“Ember Spiral Glyph!”
A spiraling disk of fire launched forward, rotating like a sawblade made of sigils. The longer it flew, the more glyph rings it passed through—each one accelerating it, enhancing the impact, sharpening the heat into a screaming spear of momentum.
Ashantiana moved through it.
Not dodging.
Not blocking.
The attack simply… lost meaning the instant it touched her.
Caroline’s eyes widened.
“Tailflame Bloom!”
One tail whipped forward, releasing a fan of fire petals that blossomed outward in a heart-shaped spread—pretty for the briefest instant—
Then it detonated.
A furnace burst that devoured the ground and scorched the air into distortion.
Ashantiana stepped forward anyway.
Caroline gritted her teeth, teleported back, then snapped her tails forward again.
“Foxsigil Clawrush!”
Each tail burned with a different flame—each signature sigil spinning, locking into place—forming a rotating claw of fire symbols that lunged and grabbed Ashantiana mid-step.
For the first time, Caroline felt something shift.
The claw slammed Ashantiana into the ground hard enough to crater it.
Caroline didn’t breathe.
She pressed.
Because this was the only moment that mattered.
Ashantiana rose.
Slowly.
Cracks in the ground trailing off her.
Caroline’s UI screamed.
Her clairvoyance flickered harder—dead ends, dead ends, dead ends—yet the sliver of survivable choices still existed.
Only because Caroline was teleporting.
Only because she was reacting with maximum precision.
Only because she was refusing to accept the conclusion.
But Ashantiana was still getting through everything.
Caroline felt the edge of panic creeping in.
So she did the thing she’d been saving.
“Ultimate Skill: Foxfire Overdrive!”
Her aura surged—Arc Overload hitting maximum—then the world snapped into a ten-second blur of controlled chaos.
Every attack auto-cast sigils.
Her tails moved on their own, lashing, spinning, weaving midair glyph combos. Foxfire and lightning collided into layered detonations, trapping the space around Ashantiana in a maze of burning symbols and violent geometry.
Caroline’s body moved on instinct now—fist, tails, teleport, strike, sigil, burn—faster than thought.
Then she clapped her hands together.
The sound cracked through the air like an execution order.
“System Override!”
A localized pressure field expanded outward—an invisible boundary that temporarily disabled Ashantiana’s aura control. Ashantiana’s motion finally paused.
Caroline didn’t waste it.
All six tails flared at once.
She planted her feet—barely stable—hands shaking with strain.
“Ultimate Move: Sixfold Vortex!”
Every tail formed a vortex, each channeling a sigil. The air spiraled into a concentrated beam—foxfire compressed into a single, screaming column with six elemental rings rotating inside it:
Burning.
Slowing.
Silencing.
Stunning.
The beam detonated across the battlefield and swallowed Ashantiana whole—drilling her into the ground, carving a trench so deep it looked like Caroline had split the land open out of hatred.
Silence followed.
Caroline stood there, trembling.
Her breath came out ragged, shallow.
Her health wasn’t great—still above forty percent, so she wasn’t dead. Magic was low. Stamina was worse. Her body felt like it was running on fumes and spite.
But it had to have done damage.
It had to.
Maybe she could escape—
The thought died the moment Ashantiana climbed out of the crevasse.
Calmly.
Unhurried.
Like Caroline hadn’t just thrown her entire existence at her.
Caroline’s body started to tremble.
Not from exhaustion.
From understanding.
Because for the first time, her clairvoyance stopped showing dead ends…
And started showing nothing at all.
So this is it?
Caroline’s life flashed the moment Ashantiana rushed her again.
Caroline teleported—
But it wasn’t fast enough.
Ashantiana’s hand snapped out and caught her leg mid-blink, fingers closing like a trap.
Caroline’s eyes widened.
Then the world turned red.
With one violent pull, Ashantiana ripped her leg off like it was nothing more than cloth.
Caroline screamed, the sound shredding her throat as she hit the ground hard—blood spraying, her UI screaming warnings she couldn’t even read anymore.
She tried to teleport again.
She did teleport again—barely.
A blink farther.
A desperate skip across broken ground.
But Ashantiana followed with the same calm, predatory pace, like distance was an illusion she allowed Caroline to pretend mattered.
Caroline raised a tail, flames sparking weakly—
Ashantiana caught her arm.
Twist.
Rip.
Caroline’s left arm tore free, and her vision flashed white with pain so intense it felt like her thoughts were burning.
Another teleport.
She reappeared farther away, slammed down on her side, and tried to sit up with her one good arm.
She looked down and both her legs were gone.
“When did it get my other leg….”
Her tails were dim, trembling, their fire and lightning flickering like it knew the end was close.
She stared up at the black-haired woman-shaped thing walking toward her, and for the first time… Caroline understood what it meant to be prey.
Her breathing shook.
Her health bar trembled at the bottom of her vision.
4%.
She could use a potion.
But it would be pointless.
So instead, she let her mind drift.
Just for a second.
Earth.
Back when she was nobody.
Back when she was that stupid flesh boulder of a life, before everything got ripped apart and rewritten. Before she got teleported to Requiem and learned what terror really meant.
The betrayal.
The fear.
The running.
Then finding her stride.
Finding friends.
Finding laughter in places that shouldn’t have had any.
S?urtinaui… and the crew… she remembered the day she ran into her favorite elf at that temple.
Mekiea… a man who showed her true love in such a short amount of time. The moments they had while brief were some of the best moments of her life.
Tinny… She really hoped Tinny was alive and well. She wished she spent more time with her…
And North.
Jonathan North.
She really wished she got to see what he would become.
In such a short time, he became a great friend.
The one-on-one moments.
The hot spring.
The Behemoth.
Helping her with Mekiea…
So many good memories.
So many sad ones.
But this was Requiem.
And she’d lived more than most ever would.
She had a hell of a run.
She even found someone who loved her in the end.
But sadly she wouldn’t see her clanmate again or taste her food. That restaurant was always so far away…
Caroline’s smile trembled.
She didn’t know what happened to Jack.
But she hoped he was okay too.
A funny thought ran through her mind. Huh… she never did get to officially meet Crisper… she should have taken the opportunity…
Ashantiana stopped over her.
A malefic hand reached down—slowly, like it wanted Caroline to feel every second of it.
Caroline smiled wider.
Her fire dimmed.
Then steadied.
Because she wasn’t going out begging.
She wasn’t going out afraid.
She was a badass fire fox.
The moment the hand touched her—
Caroline triggered her own end.
“Sigil Execution!”
A glowing sigil circle snapped into existence on the ground around her and Ashantiana.
Then it erupted.
A geyser of stylized foxfire glyphs blasted upward like a beautiful, furious funeral pyre—petals of flame shaped like scripture, spiraling and detonating in one last act of defiance.
The blast swallowed Caroline.
Swallowed Ashantiana.
Swallowed the ground.
And for one final heartbeat, the land was nothing but fire and light.
———
Far off in the distance, S?urtinaui felt it.
Saw it.
A massive explosion blooming like a sun in the nightsky.
And then—like someone snuffing out a candle—
Caroline’s aura vanished.
A scream ripped out of S?urtinaui’s chest.
Hot and broken.
Tears spilled down her face as she staggered, shaking her head, unable to accept it.
No.
No no no—
But the silence that followed didn’t argue.
Caroline was gone.
Jack appeared behind her—fully armored.
S?urtinaui whipped around and swung.
She didn’t hesitate.
She didn’t think.
She just tried to hit him.
Jack let her.
The punch landed against his chestplate with a dull, useless thud.
“Where were you?!” she snapped, voice cracking as it spilled out in English and Elvish like her throat couldn’t decide what language her anger belonged to. “What the hell, Jack?!”
Jack only sighed.
Then he reached into his inventory space—casually, like this wasn’t a graveyard around them—and tossed her a small device.
A communicator.
S?urtinaui caught it on reflex, blinking down at it, confused—
Then a pop sounded in the air.
And the golden wave answered.
It spread.
Rose.
Like something waking up.
First it launched backward—an impossible recoil of power—striking the planet of Delark itself like the world had sinned and needed to be punished.
Then it came again.
Hurling toward them.
S?urtinaui’s eyes widened.
Jack grabbed her.
And teleported.
The world folded.
Heat snapped.
They reappeared somewhere else in a violent blink.
S?urtinaui ripped herself out of his grip, shaking with rage and horror.
“Jack what the fuck!” she shouted. “What are you—”
“This is where we leave off,” Jack cut in.
S?urtinaui froze.
“…Huh?”
Jack’s voice softened—still arrogant, but quieter. "Sorry for everything that happened,” he said. “But this is how your story goes.”
S?urtinaui’s disgust sharpened instantly.
“I wasn’t meant to help,” Jack continued. “I might even get in trouble for this… but I felt like you needed a chance.”
He nodded at the communicator in her hand.
“So here. I found it on Bebele's body… It should help if you can get it working. …good luck...”
S?urtinaui stared at him like he was filth.
“Get out of here,” It was all she could muster.
Jack’s mouth twitched.
“Sorry, Teach.”
“GET OUT OF HERE!”
He floated up, then paused and looked down at her one last time.
“If you run into North…” Jack said, voice oddly sincere, “tell him I got my spotlight.”
And then he was gone.
S?urtinaui sat there, staring out into the distance like her brain forgot how to move.
The communicator felt heavy in her hand.
Useless.
Who would even call?
But she held it anyway.
Time passed—how much, she didn’t know, but the night didn’t seem to move.
The being in black didn’t come for her.
The wave kept getting closer.
And S?urtinaui didn’t care.
She just laid there.
Waiting to be erased.
Until—
A crackle.
A faint, electronic static.
Her eyes snapped open.
The communicator.
“Heyooo! Someone pick up! Bebeleeeee! Hmmm… Kiera—oh muscle head you there? Lythra… ohhh Lythra. Hello. Hello. Hello?! Anyone there?! It’s me! Ozzy!”
S?urtinaui’s breath stopped.
Ozzy…?
Her hand shook as she tried to press the button.
Nothing happened.
She fumbled with it, swearing under her breath, until finally—
It clicked.
“Hello?” she whispered.
Silence.
Then—
“S?urtinaui!” The voice hit her like a lifeline snapping tight. “What happened?! You guys okay?!”
She recognized it instantly.
North.
