It was quiet.

  A weightless, comforting silence wrapped around him like a soft blanket. Sparks floated in darkness, drifting toward a distant blue light. A gentle voice called from within it—soothing, inviting. His heart eased. He reached toward the glow—

  Something tugged at his tail.

  Kindling.

  The little twin-tailed cat had its teeth in his tail, bracing against the darkness, refusing to let him drift into the light. Sparks frowned…then saw it. A rush of memories lit the void. Their first fire. Warm summer rooftops. Nights spent talking and dreaming in orange light. The bond they shared. The friendship. The creativity.

  Sparks reached down and lifted Kindling into his arms. "I’m not going," he breathed, hugging it tight.

  The blue light flickered. The voice called his name—Sparks—one last time…and vanished.

  A sudden jolt of pain snapped him back to reality with a gasp.

  Cold air. Metal. Krouri kneeling beside him, an icy dagger slick with his blood in her hand and her other palm pressed to his chest, magic flowing into the wound.

  "Sparks! Can you hear me?"

  "I…hear you." He forced himself upright, hand rising shakily to his heart. Kindling sat nearby, ears lowered in concern. Sparks rubbed its head. "I’m all right." He staggered to the railing of the catwalk and saw a corgi calmly walking toward an open hatch in the floor below, pale light flickering up from within.

  Victor.

  Sparks snarled and flung out a hand. Obsidian chains erupted from the ground but wilted the moment they reached Victor. Something dark and shapeless shielded him, just at the edge of his vision.

  There was movement at the end of the catwalk.

  Leo. Bruised and wild-eyed. Still bonded. And standing between him and Sparks…Tristopher.

  "Y’ain’t gettin’ past me, leetle rodent boy. Nope nope—"

  Leo’s fist silenced him. Striking him over and over until Tristopher toppled over the railing. Leo didn’t even bother to watch him fall. His gaze was locked on Sparks. Frozen fury.

  Krouri stepped in front, wings spread wide. "Leo, wait, he’s not—"

  He didn’t hear her. He pushed past and seized Sparks by the lapels, frost racing over the fabric toward his throat. "Your broadcast," Leo hissed. "Who ordered the building burned? Who killed my father?"

  Sparks held his gaze. He recognized the grief behind the rage—and quietly offered it to Leo, hilt first. The icy blade that had nearly killed him needed a new target.

  "Pazienza," he said softly.

  Leo trembled. His jaw clenched. He took the dagger with shaking fingers and let go of Sparks. The scream that tore loose from him wasn’t fueled by anger. It was Revenge.

  He hurled himself from the catwalk toward the melee below. Sparks didn’t watch him land. His eyes were already back on Victor. "I have to follow him," he told Krouri quietly. She looked worried—but nodded.

  "You're in bad shape," Krouri countered. "But I won't stop you. I've got mom. Just be careful."

  Kindling wrapped around his wrist. Sparks blinked out of existence and reappeared next to the hatch. He climbed down into darkness.

  The ether well's light glowed like a wound in the world—wider and jagged, mushrooms pulsing at the rim. Victor stood at its edge, staring into the shifting, unnatural waters.

  "Reginald…" Sparks said gently.

  "That's not my name."

  "No, that's the name of my friend. The one who's been at my side for years. Sharing my joys. My troubles. Which is why I don't understand why you're doing this. Why me? Why Kindling?"

  Victor didn’t turn. "Because yours was the first spark," he said quietly. "If Creativity exists, then so must the opposite. An Eidolon of Destruction. Devastation. Annihilation. Everything always ends."

  His eyes gleamed violet. "The only thing that ever mattered was reaching the top. Having the Ambition and Control to do whatever it takes to get there. But once you’ve taken everything…there’s nothing left but the end."

  He raised his hands to the well.

  "And if everything must end…why not have me be the one who ends it?"

  "Is it really worth sacrificing everything for a fleeting moment of desire?" Sparks asked.

  "This isn't about a single moment. This is about every moment that has ever existed or will ever exist and ending them. Forever." Purple energy flowed from his palms into the ether well. The surface convulsed, boiling and hissing. A blast of raw emotion ripped through the air.

  Sparks screamed, clutching his head. The voices came.

  It’s pointless.

  They’ll forget you.

  Everything burns to ash in the end.

  Let it go.

  Kindling clung harder to his wrist. He felt its warmth. Its stubborn, boundless hope.

  Sparks gritted his teeth…and stepped forward.

  *  *  *

  Buck edged out from behind the support pillar, weapon raised. Zywrath and Pazienza were locked in brutal combat. The lieutenant moved like a storm—furious and precise—but fatigue had begun to show. Sparks’ little Kindling clone tried to help but was crushed in Pazienza’s fist like a firefly.

  Zywrath swung. Missed. Pazienza brought both fists down like a sledgehammer.

  Boom.

  Zywrath went still.

  "PAZIENZA!" Buck fired twice. Both rounds punched through the Don’s scales, staggering the lizard.

  Pazienza turned, dripping blood, still smiling. "I'm surprised there's anything left of you, detective," he growled. "All you had to do was stop a serial killer and I could have made you rich. Instead, you had to go nosing around where you didn't belong!"

  "I don't take money from defilers!" He pulled the hammer back. "Last warning: Surrender."

  Pazienza laughed—and spit a gout of blood. "Surrender? I'm just getting my second wind. I'll tear you all into scraps!"

  There was a blur of motion from above. Leo slammed into Pazienza, roaring, the icy dagger plunging deep into the Don’s neck. Frost burst from the wound. The crime lord howled and hurled the hamster aside.

  "NOW!" Akri cried. She clapped her wings together.

  CRACK — a thunderclap blasted Pazienza off his feet.

  Buck and Krouri opened fire, bullets shredding scales and stripping away the golden glow around him. Pazienza staggered, barely able to stand, blood running down his chest. "You...insignificant...PEASANTS…" He swayed. "I own this city. Every mayor. Every cop. Every little rat in a trench coat—Everything flows through me! I AM this city!"

  He pulled the dagger from his throat. An arc of blood curved and hung in the air, only for the droplets to quickly freeze and smash onto the ground. His eyes landed on Tobias’ crumpled corpse. He kicked it casually.

  "Trash. One piece or a thousand—I'll burn it all the same."

  Something broke in Krouri.

  "He was my friend!" she screamed.

  Buck held his weapon steady, his arms taut in front of him.

  Sam…

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  He remembered showing his partner how to adjust the iron sights on this very gun. Sam laughing when he stripped the screws. Their graduation. The promise they made.

  "He was my BROTHER!"

  He pulled the trigger.

  Pazienza’s head snapped back—the bullet punching into his skull just as a bolt embedded from the other direction. The Don toppled face first to the ground.

  Hazelnut’s crossbow bolt jutted from the back of his head.

  Silence.

  Akri rushed to Zywrath. Krouri fell to her knees, sobbing with relief.

  Buck simply stared, chest heaving.

  It’s over. It's really—

  —pain.

  A wave of emotions slammed into him. He and Krouri and Zywrath staggered, clutching their skulls. Agony. Rage. Guilt. Mystery shrieked in his mind. A thousand unanswered questions clawing at his thoughts.

  He forced an eye open. Leo was kneeling over Pazienza’s corpse.

  Stabbing.

  Again.

  And again.

  And again.

  The icy dagger flashed red with blood, slamming down over and over with unhinged fury.

  And just past him—a blur of red fur rocketed across the warehouse floor.

  *  *  *

  "He was my father."

  Hazelnut lowered the crossbow with a whisper just as the warehouse erupted into chaos. Their moment of victory replaced by screams. Everyone was screaming. Not just Buck or Krouri—the entire city. Something had gone terribly wrong.

  She vaulted the catwalk railing and hit the floor running, sprinting toward the hatch spilling multicolored light. Below, Sparks was on his knees. Hands pressed to his skull. Kindling clawed at him, desperate to bring him back.

  Ahead of them, Victor stood over the glowing pit, pouring magic into it like a man unburdened. The pool churned and split with impossible colors.

  And beside him…

  A figure. Slowly forming in the flickering light. Hooded. Still.

  It turned.

  A black-feathered, wingless thing, with a bone-white beak scarred by two red hash marks.

  It looked through her.

  And slowly…dragged a talon across its beak.

  A third tally.

  Hazelnut felt her knees want to buckle. Fear, yes—but deeper than fear. Hollowness. A crushing, airless hopelessness that suffocated every prayer inside her. This wasn’t Victor anymore.

  This was Despair.

  The thing Professor Nooraym warned them about. The catastrophe born when Ambition and Control finally realize what lies at the top:

  Nothing.

  Victor’s body crumbled as Despair’s robe enveloped him. He vanished without a ripple—like he’d never existed at all.

  But the pit kept boiling. This world wasn't capable of physically hosting the ideas of Chaos and Order. Life and Death. Time and Space. The pool was the closest thing to a doorway and was being stretched to allow them through.

  Up above, the screams rose into a chorus of agony. The world itself was starting to tear.

  A broken, miserable yowl drew her back—Kindling.

  The little fire cat pressed its paws against Sparks’ chest, trying to hold him together as the torrent of despair clawed at his heart.

  Sparks stared into nothing, whispering through cracked lips:

  "It doesn’t matter…

  …we’re forgotten…

  …all of it ends…"

  Hazelnut grabbed him with both hands, shaking him hard. "Sparks!" No response. His eyes were glassy. Empty.

  Another flash. Not of light, but memory. Kindling touched her and just for a moment, she saw through its eyes:

  —Sparks and Hazelnut standing on the other side of the pool.

  —The overflow receding.

  —The city still standing.

  Kindling was making a choice. It brushed past her—warm, brave—and floated toward the edge of the pool. Hazelnut reached for it. When her hand touched its fur, a piece of skin scorched away, leaving a small, glowing heart burned into the fur on the back of her hand.

  Her tears finally came.

  She turned back to Sparks, cupping his face in her trembling hands. "Listen to me. Look at me." His eyes flickered. "You told me once that fire always creates something. Even when it destroys."

  He blinked—just once.

  She pressed her forehead to his.

  "You can’t let it all end like this. You saved us. You. You lit the fire that made Buck fight again. You gave Krouri the courage to take on the Don. You helped me save my home. You're the spark that brought all of us together. Now we need you to do it one more time."

  His lip trembled. Kindling looked back at him from the pool’s edge.

  "And we’re not going to forget you," Hazelnut whispered. "I couldn’t, even if I wanted to."

  Something inside him cracked—not in pain this time, but open. Sparks reached out a shaky paw toward Kindling.

  "…then take me home," he breathed.

  Kindling gave the tiniest nod…and leapt into his hand as fire.

  *  *  *

  Sparks felt something wrap around him as Hazelnut’s words reached him. Not fear, not desperation…peace. A quiet, undeniable clarity. The need to be remembered…to leave a mark—whether praised or feared—had always burned within him. But maybe he’d been wrong about how one leaves a mark.

  Maybe it wasn’t the world that needed to see.

  Maybe it was the people who already did.

  He looked at Hazelnut. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but there wasn’t a trace of doubt in her eyes. She trusted him.

  They all did.

  Sparks turned toward the churning pit of colors and stepped forward. Kindling stood on the other side, half-submerged in the swirling dimension beyond. Endless colors and impossible shapes flickered behind the little Eidolon, promising calm…and oblivion. He raised his trembling hands toward the pool.

  "I trust you, my friend."

  The magic responded like it had just been waiting for permission. The icy fire in his veins roared to life and expanded, filling every nerve, every muscle, every bone. He didn’t hold back this time.

  He couldn’t.

  He dove, headlong, into the deepest part of himself—the place he’d always been too afraid to touch. A torrent of golden-orange flame erupted from his hands and slammed into the pool. On the other side, Kindling opened its jaws and did the same, twin blue tails fanning out behind it like wings of light.

  Creation met Creation.

  The dimensional fluid shrieked. Sparks grit his teeth and forced more magic into the blast, feeling it tear its way through him. The outlet narrowed. The pool began shrinking.

  The edges pulled inward, inch by inch…

  …foot by foot…

  Sparks’ skin cracked. His fur curled and burned away in black flakes.

  He kept going.

  The portal shrank further.

  Soon, all that remained was a coin-sized circle—and Kindling’s bright yellow eye looking at him from the other side.

  Unblinking.

  Unafraid.

  Sparks’ voice broke as he forced out the last words. "You will always be my friend, Kindling…thank you. For everything."

  BOOM

  The shockwave hurled Sparks backwards as the warehouse shook. A ripple of silence rolled over the city — chasing away every whisper of despair and doubt. The pit dried instantly, like it had never existed. The lights vanished. And for the first time in what felt like ages…

  …everything was quiet.

  *  *  *

  Buck opened his eyes.

  The questions had stopped. The air was still. Not the kind of stillness that follows shock or fear—this was different. Deep. Final. Like the whole city had finally exhaled after holding its breath for years.

  On the floor nearby, Zywrath sat with his back to the dented shutter, shoulder heaving with exhaustion. Krouri was on her knees beside her mother, sobbing in pure relief. Leo knelt amongst the debris, dagger slipped from his hand, shoulders shaking as he wept.

  Buck felt it too. The guilt…the questions…the looping regrets—all gone. As though some unseen weight had been lifted from the entire city at once. He turned toward the hatch. No lights. No sound.

  No Sparks.

  His heart dropped.

  He ran—tearing across the cracked concrete and leapt straight down the opening.

  Hazelnut was there, kneeling.

  Broken.

  Both her hands resting atop a charred form.

  She looked up as Buck landed. Her face was soaked in tears. She couldn't speak. She just shook her head.

  Buck stepped forward and froze.

  It…it was Sparks.

  Or what was left of him.

  A crumbling, blackened husk. Barely breathing. Fur burned away in patches. Skin cracked and flaking like charcoal.

  And still…somehow…alive.

  Buck dropped to his knees and took the ruined, trembling hand, holding it tight. "Hang in there, matchstick. Help’s coming." His voice cracked. "You don’t get to burn out on me yet."

  Sparks’ eyes fluttered open. He took one last rattling breath…and somehow managed a weak, crooked smile. "You’ve all been…wonderful," he whispered, voice little more than ash and wind. "A family I never had. Thank you..."

  His hand relaxed in Buck’s grasp. His eyes closed. One last exhale.

  Hazelnut broke. Her sob echoed off the stone.

  Buck bowed his head, jaw locked, fighting against the sting in his eyes—

  A sudden clatter above.

  Illani dropped down the ladder, blood smeared on her face, eyes wide and haunted. "I saw it," she whispered, kneeling beside them. "Sparks… he saved everyone." She placed a trembling talon over Sparks’ chest. "Truth is gone. The others too. But…but maybe not all of it. Not if I can still remember. I have to try. For him."

  A faint light flickered beneath her hand. Small. Fragile.

  It grew—swelled—pure white, almost blinding.

  Flooding the room with warmth and hope.

  Buck shut his eyes as the light enveloped them.

  All he could feel was peace.

  For just a moment, in that buried space under a broken city… everything was right.