The sky burned red.
Smoke rolled across the horizon in thick, suffocating waves, swallowing the last traces of blue as the roar of battle tore through the air. Along the Zerrrax Coastline, flames devoured shattered ships and broken fortifications, their reflections bleeding across the sea like a wound that refused to close.
Thousands of soldiers clashed beneath a dying sun.
Steel rang against steel in a relentless storm of violence. Shields splintered under crushing blows, and war cries dissolved into screams as two armies collided with unyielding force. The ground itself trembled beneath the weight of the conflict, soaked with ash, fire, and blood.
It was the third day of the siege.
And neither side intended to yield.
"FORWARD!"
A golden-armored Angelic commander raised his blade high, his voice cutting through the chaos like a thunderclap. At once, ranks of soldiers surged behind him, their armor catching the firelight as they advanced into the storm.
Across the battlefield, the Arcadians answered with equal fury.
"DO NOT YIELD!"
Their commander stepped forward, twin blades igniting with dark energy as his forces roared in defiance, and within moments the battlefield dissolved into complete and utter chaos.
Above the carnage, a transport craft tore through the smoke-filled sky, its hull rattling violently as energy blasts streaked past.
Inside the cockpit, the pilot gripped the controls, jaw tight. "Entering combat airspace," he said. "We're taking heavy crossfire."
Behind him stood a figure unmoved by the turbulence.
Silver hair. Blue eyes. Armor alive with faint currents of lightning.
Renku, the Orion of Hope.
He stared out across the battlefield, watching the endless cycle unfold—soldiers cutting each other down, lives extinguished in seconds, all of it repeating without end.
His expression hardened, but his voice remained calm.
"Remember why we're here," he said quietly. "We end this. No more blood."
The rear door opened with a sharp hiss.
Heat and ash flooded the interior as the battlefield revealed itself in full.
Zether moved first.
The Orion of Shadows stepped down the ramp with measured calm, his dark armor absorbing the light around him. His amber gaze swept across the battlefield, unreadable, as if the chaos before him were something distant—something beneath notice.
Several soldiers broke from the front lines and charged him, weapons raised.
Zether did not even turn fully toward them.
"Light blinds," he murmured, his voice barely louder than the wind.
A shadow crept across his face, one golden eye gleaming through the darkness.
"Shadows reveal."
The ground beneath him darkened.
Then it moved.
Black tendrils erupted upward without warning, twisting and coiling like living things as they surged toward the charging soldiers. They struck with precision, binding limbs, crushing weapons, lifting bodies into the air as panic overtook discipline.
The soldiers struggled, their shouts breaking into fear, but the shadows did not loosen.
They did not yield.
They held.
A sudden brilliance split the sky.
Zether paused.
The clouds parted as golden radiance poured downward, washing the battlefield in blinding light. At its center, suspended in the heavens, hovered Andreia.
The Orion of Light.
Her wings stretched wide, vast and radiant, each feather glowing as though forged from the sun itself. Her golden hair flowed around her like liquid fire, untouched by the chaos below, as sigils formed in the air around her—dozens of them, each burning brighter than the last.
She raised her hand.
"Divine Swords."
The sky answered.
Blades of light descended in a relentless storm, crashing into the battlefield with explosive force as the earth shattered beneath them. Entire formations were erased in moments, the sheer brilliance forcing soldiers to shield their eyes or collapse beneath the overwhelming radiance.
When the light finally faded, silence followed—brief, fragile, unnatural.
Through the drifting smoke stood another figure.
Valak.
The Orion of Chaos.
Crimson energy pulsed beneath his armor like a heartbeat, casting flickering light across his form as he surveyed the battlefield. His white hair glowed faintly red beneath the burning sky, and his expression held something disturbingly close to satisfaction.
"…hm."
Lightning answered him.
Renku stepped forward, raising his hand as blue energy surged violently through his armor. The sky darkened in response, thunder rolling as power gathered above.
"Divine Cleanse."
The heavens split.
A pillar of lightning crashed down with overwhelming force, tearing through the battlefield and annihilating what remained of the fighting armies. The impact shattered the ground, leaving nothing but scorched earth and silence in its wake.
And just like that—
It was over.
Smoke drifted slowly across the coastline as the surviving soldiers staggered back, the reality of defeat settling in.
"RETREAT!"
"Fall back!"
"To the transports!"
Arcadian forces broke formation, rushing toward evacuation ships hovering above the ground as desperation replaced discipline.
Above them, the four Orions regrouped.
Renku exhaled, tension easing from his shoulders. "The battlefield is clearing."
"The fighting has ceased," Andreia confirmed.
Zether folded his arms. "Then our task is complete."
For a moment, there was only wind and ash.
Then Valak spoke.
"No."
The word cut through the silence like a blade.
Red energy flickered across his armor as his gaze fixed on the retreating army.
"No one leaves."
The air ignited around him.
Crimson energy gathered instantly in his palm, swirling into a dense, unstable sphere that pulsed with violent intensity. Lightning cracked within it, the surrounding space bending as if reality itself struggled to contain it.
Across the battlefield, soldiers froze.
They looked up and understood.
"Chaos Comet."
Valak released the energy ball.
The sphere tore through the sky like a falling star, screaming as it descended toward the evacuation fleet. Panic erupted below as soldiers scattered, their cries swallowed by the growing roar.
Then impact.
The explosion swallowed everything.
Fire consumed the sky as shockwaves tore through the battlefield, ripping apart transports and hurling debris in every direction. Metal twisted and disintegrated, reduced to nothing in seconds as the blast carved a crater into the earth.
When it ended— Nothing remained. Fire and ash consumed the landscape with an eerie silence.
Near the edge of the destruction, a broken transport lay torn open, its remains barely recognizable. A golden emblem rested in the dirt beside it, half-buried beneath ash.
A trembling hand reached toward it.
Renku forced himself upright, his armor flickering weakly as residual energy crackled and faded. His gaze swept across the battlefield, and what he saw stopped him cold.
No movement. No survivors. Only ruin—and the faint outline of bodies that would never rise again.
Slowly, he turned.
Valak stood at the center of it all, stepping forward through the wreckage as crimson energy rolled off him like living flame.
"You murdered them."
Renku's voice shook—not with fear, but with something deeper.
Valak met his gaze without hesitation.
"I ended it."
"They were retreating!" Renku's voice broke, lightning snapping violently around him. "It was over—you didn't have to—"
"You still don't see it."
Valak's tone was calm, almost disappointed.
He stepped closer, the heat around him intensifying.
"You speak of peace," he said quietly, "but to them, you are nothing more than a weapon."
Renku faltered.
"You kneel," Valak continued, his voice sharpening, "to those who send others to die in their place."
Zether stepped forward. "The path you're choosing is the easy one."
Valak laughed softly.
"Easy?"
He gestured toward the battlefield.
"We are puppets," he said. "Sent to clean the consequences of decisions we never made."
His gaze hardened.
"It takes two to create a war. The Angelics are no less guilty than the Arcadians."
The wind howled through the ruins.
"We are gods walking among mortals," he continued, his voice rising, "and yet we bow to them."
"They speak of war from distant halls while this—" he gestured to the devastation "—is the reality they create."
Renku stared at him. "Valak…"
"Following orders is easy," Valak said. "Ignoring the truth is easy."
His voice thundered.
"But ending it—truly ending it—"
His power surged.
"Requires something more."
Crimson energy erupted around him.
"You may call it genocide," he said, his eyes burning with conviction.
"I call it salvation."
The air trembled beneath the weight of his power.
"I will end all wars," he declared, "even if the universe itself must be remade to do it."
Renku stepped forward, desperation breaking through. "Extinction isn't peace! We can fix this—together!"
For a moment— Valak said nothing. He just turned his back and walked away.
"Deliberation is a luxury," he said quietly. "Choice is an illusion."
He began to walk.
"Action is the only answer."
Andreia placed a hand on Renku's shoulder, but he barely felt it. His gaze remained fixed on the figure disappearing into the smoke.
"…Is it too late?"
Zether's voice followed.
"What will you do now, Valak?"
Valak paused.
Then, without turning—
"What should have been done… long ago." His voice was calm.
The ground ignited beneath him.
Emerald light spread outward in intricate patterns, forming an enormous arcane circle as ancient symbols flared to life. The air twisted violently, pulled toward a growing vortex above as the sky itself began to spiral.
The gateway opened—vast and impossible, stretching beyond the limits of the mortal world.
Valak stepped forward.
Light consumed him, and in the next instant, he was gone.
The vortex collapsed into nothing.
Far beyond the battlefield… Beyond stars… Beyond time… A new realm awaited.
The Realm of the Gods.
Floating monoliths drifted through an endless cosmic expanse, fragments of ancient structures suspended in silence as divine energy pulsed through the void.
At the center sat a lone figure upon a throne of obsidian and starlight.
The God of Destruction.
He watched. Waiting.
A portal opened before him.
Green light spilled outward as Valak stepped into the divine realm and slowly lifted his gaze.
A faint smile formed on the god's lips.
As if this moment had always been inevitable.