The crop duster rattled and groaned as it cut through the skies over the Atlantic. The ancient engine, powered by a combination of old tech and the dark energy of souls, struggled to keep the rusted plane airborne. Riko’s necromancy had infused the engine with just enough power to make this journey possible, the souls of the dead driving it forward. The cabin was tense, the hum of the engine mixing with the low crackle of the radio, one of the last reliable ways to hear what was happening in the world.
Mike sat in the back, gripping Blue Dusk, his mind heavy with the weight of what was unfolding. Riko was at the controls, her eyes fixed on the horizon, her expression hard and focused. Altheack was bent over the radio, her face tight with concern as she listened to the news filtering through the static-filled transmission.
"The situation is rapidly deteriorating across the globe," the radio announcer's voice crackled through the static, tense and strained. "We’re receiving reports of widespread blackouts and major communication outages… This isn’t an isolated incident—multiple nuclear launches have been confirmed, targeting major cities worldwide. Details are still coming in, but it appears these strikes are coordinated. We advise everyone to seek shelter and stay tuned to emergency broadcasts, but with infrastructure collapsing… it’s unclear how much longer we’ll be able to stay on air…"
Altheack’s eyes widened as she adjusted the radio, her voice trembling. “Half the world just got hit. The EMPs are taking out everything—power, communication, the internet. The radio’s all we’ve got left, but even that won’t last with the towers likely to be destroyed or hit by radiation.”
Riko’s expression hardened. “They’re targeting communication networks, isolating us. This isn’t about total destruction—it’s about creating chaos.”
Mike felt a cold knot tighten in his stomach. “They’re setting the stage. They want to be summoned here, just like Rox was on Caldera. They need millions of souls to summon an archdemon.”
Riko nodded, her tone grim. “Demons are cunning. Anna Sha was dangerous, but I didn’t think they could pull off something like this.”
Suddenly, Altheack’s voice cut through the tension. “Wait, I’ve got the signal back—”
The radio crackled violently, a frantic voice breaking through, “Another detonation over Europe, this time in France. The EMP—” The signal cut off, replaced by a high-pitched whine.
A blinding flash lit up the sky outside, turning night into day. The EMP wave hit them hard, killing the plane’s electronics. The engine sputtered and coughed, the necromantic power struggling against the surge.
“Shit!” Riko swore, pulling hard on the controls as the plane began to plummet. “We’re going down!”
Altheack’s eyes were wide with panic as she stared at the altimeter, watching it spin wildly. She didn’t hesitate, raising her hands and shouting, "CAL RUAS!" Vines and roots surged up from the earth below, racing toward the plummeting plane.
But the descent was too fast, too uncontrolled. Mike felt a surge of desperation as they hurtled toward the ground. Without thinking, he whispered, "EJSOA"—a word of power, old and forbidden, that shouldn’t have been in his mind. The metal of the plane shimmered and hardened, transforming into an almost indestructible material for just a moment.
The impact was bone-jarring, the plane crashing through trees and underbrush, but the reinforced metal held. Vines wrapped around the fuselage, slowing them just enough to avoid a catastrophic crash. The plane skidded to a stop in a field, the vegetation Altheack had summoned cushioning the landing.
Groaning, Mike forced himself out of the wreckage, his body screaming in pain from the bruises, cuts, and the dull throb of something more serious. He could barely stand, his vision swimming as he stumbled forward. Riko was already out, one arm hanging awkwardly at her side, blood trickling down her face from a deep cut on her forehead. Altheack followed, limping heavily, her face pale and drawn, her breathing ragged.
“Is… y’all… okay?” Mike slurred, his words coming out slow and heavy, almost like he was struggling to string them together. He clutched Blue Dusk, the sword’s purple flames flickering weakly in his grip.
Riko grunted, wincing as she tried to move her dislocated shoulder back into place. “Barely,” she muttered through gritted teeth. She glanced at Mike, noticing the dazed look in his eyes and how he swayed unsteadily. “You’re worse off than us, though. Altheack, check him—he’s not making sense.”
Altheack staggered over to Mike, her eyes narrowing as she took in his condition. “He’s got a concussion,” she diagnosed, her voice tight with concern.
Riko smirked, despite the pain shooting through her body. “He always sounds like that, though. Dumb as rocks.” Mike blinked slowly, his head wobbling slightly, and mumbled, “Me… uh… me good… like… real good, y’all…”
Riko placed a hand on Mike’s head and whispered, "Las vura." A soft, warm light enveloped him, healing the worst of his injuries and clearing the fog from his mind. Mike blinked again, this time more alert. “Thanks… I think,” he mumbled, his words now more coherent.
Riko chuckled, though it was strained. “You’re welcome, dumbass. Now, let’s get moving. The world’s going to hell, and we’ve got work to do.”
With their injuries mended, the trio took a moment to gather themselves, the adrenaline slowly ebbing away. Mike surveyed the wreckage, frustration gnawing at him. "That could’ve gone a hell of a lot worse."
Altheack, still shaken, tossed aside the remains of the radio. Her hands trembled slightly as she spoke, “The EMP fried everything… our last connection to the outside world is gone.”
Riko glanced from the wreckage of the plane to the darkened landscape surrounding them. “There’s a village not far from here. We can find some transportation and get to Paris fast. We’re running out of time.”
Mike nodded, his resolve hardening as the gravity of their situation settled in. He quickly pulled out his phone, hoping for some connection to the outside world, but the screen remained dark. It was fried, just like everything else. With a frustrated sigh, he shoved it back into his pocket. “Let’s move,” he said, the urgency in his voice leaving no room for hesitation.
Without another word, they set off into the night, the world around them teetering on the brink of collapse. The fight was only just beginning, and there was no turning back now.
The trio moved swiftly through the dense underbrush, the shadows of the trees stretching long in the dim light of early dawn. The crash site was already fading into the distance behind them as they pushed forward, driven by the urgency of their mission. Mike could feel the weight of the situation pressing down on him, the knowledge that they were racing against time, against forces far beyond their control.
They emerged from the woods into the outskirts of a small village, the place eerily silent. The buildings were dark, many of them damaged, with windows shattered and doors hanging loosely on their hinges. There were no signs of life, no movement in the streets—just the stillness of a place abandoned in haste.
“This place looks like it was hit hard,” Riko muttered, her voice low as she surveyed the scene. “We’re not going to find much help here.”
“We don’t need help,” Mike replied, his tone grim. “We need a ride.”
They moved cautiously down the main street, their footsteps echoing in the eerie silence. The village was a ghost town, left in the wake of whatever chaos had driven its inhabitants away. Altheack’s eyes flickered with unease as she took in the scene, the remnants of lives interrupted abruptly.
“There,” she said, pointing toward a run-down garage at the edge of the village. Inside, an old car sat covered in dust and cobwebs, its paint chipped and rusted in places, but it looked intact.
“Think it’ll run?” Mike asked, skepticism clear in his voice.
Riko didn’t answer right away. Instead, she moved to the car, lifting the hood to inspect the engine. “It’s an old model,” she said, more to herself than anyone else, “but it might still have some life in it.” She reached into her bag, pulling out a small toolkit and a few soul crystals. “Altheack, keep watch. Mike, give me a hand.”
As Mike joined her, he noticed Riko placing one of the soul crystals into a slot in the engine compartment. The engine had been modified, empowered by necromantic magic to run on a combination of old tech and the energy stored within the crystals. It was a strange blend of the past and the arcane, but right now, it was their best shot at getting out of here.
Riko worked quickly, her fingers deftly connecting wires and adjusting the settings on the engine. Altheack stood by the entrance to the garage, her senses alert for any sign of movement, but the village remained deathly quiet, as if holding its breath.
The engine sputtered to life with a growl, coughing and wheezing before finally settling into a rough, uneven idle. Riko and Mike exchanged a glance, a mix of relief and determination passing between them.
“Let’s go,” Riko said, her voice hard as she slid into the driver’s seat. Mike and Altheack quickly followed, and within moments, they were speeding down the empty streets, leaving the village behind.
As they drove, the devastation around them became more apparent. Fields were scorched, homes reduced to rubble, and the distant glow of fires marked the locations of ongoing battles. The world was unraveling, and they were driving straight into the heart of the storm.
As they drove, the silence in the car was thick with tension, the weight of everything they had just survived pressing down on them. Altheack broke the quiet, her voice filled with curiosity and a hint of concern. “Mike, that spell you used… what was it? I’ve never heard you say anything like that before.”
Mike frowned, his grip on the dashboard tightening. “I’m not sure. The word just… came to me, like it was buried deep in my soul. It felt natural, but I don’t know where it came from.”
Riko, her eyes focused on the road ahead, spared him a glance. “Good. Maybe you’ll start remembering more. We could use whatever edge we can get right now.”
As they neared the heart of Paris, the city’s devastation was impossible to ignore. The Eiffel Tower lay in a twisted heap, and the streets were strewn with debris, smoke billowing into the sky.
Mike stared out at the wreckage and shook his head. “Wow, I always thought the French were the only ones who burned down Paris.”
Riko shot him a sharp look, her voice flat. “Now’s really not the time, Mike.”
Altheack rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a smirk. “Leave it to you to crack jokes in a warzone. Let’s just focus on getting to that AI before this whole place is gone.”
Mike shrugged, gripping Blue Dusk. “Just trying to lighten the mood. But yeah, let’s get this done.”
They pulled up to the government facility, the destroyed entrance a grim reminder that there was no time to waste.
Riko was already out of the car, her focus back on the mission. “No more distractions. We stop that AI, or we’re all done for.”
Mike followed, his earlier humor giving way to determination. “Time to save the world. Again.”
Altheack’s magic sparked around her as they prepared to enter. “And maybe save the jokes for after we survive this.”
Mike followed her lead, drawing Blue Dusk from its sheath. The blade flared to life with purple flames, the sight of it bringing a grim smile to his face. He glanced at Altheack, who nodded in silent agreement as she summoned her magic, the air around her crackling with energy.
As they approached the entrance, the scene before them grew even more harrowing. A group of demons emerged from the shadows, their eyes glowing with malevolent hunger. These were no ordinary demons—they were hulking, twisted monstrosities, with flesh that seemed to writhe and shift, dripping with a dark, viscous substance. The air around them stank of rot and death, the dark energy they radiated almost suffocating.
The ground was littered with the mangled bodies of those who had fought valiantly to defend the facility. Blood stained the concrete, pooling in deep, sticky puddles that reflected the dim light in a sickly sheen. Limbs were torn from bodies, faces frozen in the final moments of terror, and the scent of coppery blood mixed with the foul stench of decay.
Among the dead, the unmistakable signs of a brutal battle were evident—shredded uniforms, weapons scattered across the ground, and bullet casings glinting in the dim light. The walls of the facility were spattered with gore, handprints smeared across the surfaces where desperate soldiers had tried in vain to fend off their monstrous attackers.
But the demons had left no human alive. Every soldier, every guard who had stood in their path, lay motionless, their lives snuffed out in a futile attempt to hold the line. All save for the unfortunate hosts of the demons, their twisted forms barely recognizable as human. The bodies of these hosts were grotesque parodies of their former selves, with bulging veins, eyes sunken into hollow sockets, and skin stretched tight over unnatural growths. Their mouths gaped open in silent screams, and their movements were jerky and unnatural as if they were marionettes controlled by some malevolent force.
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“They’re stronger than before,” Altheack muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes darted over the demons, calculating, desperate. “We have to be smart about this.”
The group could feel the oppressive weight of the dark energy emanating from the demons, a palpable force that pressed down on them, making it difficult to breathe. Every breath they took was filled with the scent of blood and death, and the sight of the carnage only fueled their determination to fight back.
Mike gripped Blue Dusk tighter, the purple flames flickering more intensely as if responding to the horrors before them. The odds were stacked against them, but there was no turning back now. They would have to fight with everything they had, or risk being consumed by the darkness that had already claimed so many.
Mike didn’t wait. With a guttural roar, he charged forward, Blue Dusk ablaze in his hands. He moved like a predator, his body low and fast, each step calculated, each strike precise. The first demon lunged at him, claws outstretched, but Mike was faster. He dodged, twisting to the side, and brought Blue Dusk down in a powerful arc. The blade cleaved through the demon’s torso, splitting it open from shoulder to hip. Blood—thick, black, and steaming—splattered across Mike’s face as the demon let out a shriek, its body collapsing in a heap as the purple flames consumed it, burning through flesh and bone with a sickening hiss.
Altheack was right behind him, her hands moving in frantic patterns as she summoned the power of the earth. Vines and roots erupted from the ground, wrapping around the legs of the demons, but these were not ordinary plants. They were thorned, barbed, and wickedly sharp, piercing through demonic flesh and bone, drawing out thick, dark blood. The demons shrieked in pain, their bodies convulsing as the vegetation tightened its grip, but they didn’t stop. They ripped and tore at the vines, their grotesque forms pushing forward despite the damage, driven by an insatiable hunger for blood.
Altheack’s eyes widened as she watched in horror. The plants weren’t enough. She tried to summon more, but the demons were too strong, too relentless. One of them broke free, its claws slashing through the air, aiming straight for her. She raised her hands to defend herself, but she was too slow. The demon’s claws raked across her chest, tearing through flesh and muscle, sending her sprawling to the ground with a scream.
Mike saw it happen, but he was too far away. He fought through the demons, his sword cutting a bloody path, but they kept coming, blocking his way. Altheack was on the ground, blood pouring from her wounds, her vision blurring as the demon loomed over her, ready to deliver the killing blow.
“OWALOW!” The word tore from her lips, a last desperate act.
Her body twisted and contorted, bones snapping and muscles bulging as she transformed. Fur sprouted from her skin, thick and dark, as her form grew massive, filling the space where she lay. In seconds, Altheack was no longer herself but a towering owlbear, her eyes glowing with a primal fury.
The demon hesitated for a split second, confused by the sudden change, and that was all the time Altheack needed. With a roar, she lunged at the demon, her massive claws slashing across its face. The force of the blow sent the demon’s head spinning on its neck, its black blood spraying in a wide arc. The demon staggered, trying to right itself, but Altheack didn’t stop. She tore into the demon with her beak, ripping out chunks of flesh and bone, the demon’s shrieks filling the air as she reduced it to a bloody mess.
Riko, seeing Altheack’s transformation, wasted no time. Her eyes flared with dark energy as she raised her hands, her voice a low, guttural chant. “Huoa.”
The souls of the recently dead answered her call, rising from the blood-soaked ground. Their bodies were mangled, twisted beyond recognition, but under Riko’s control, they moved with a singular purpose. She directed them with ruthless efficiency, sending them crashing into the demonic ranks. The undead threw themselves at the demons with reckless abandon, clawing, biting, tearing, their own bodies falling apart as they overwhelmed the enemy through sheer numbers. They tore into the demons with hands, teeth, and whatever was left of their bodies, their own blood mingling with the black ichor of the demons.
But the demons were relentless. Each wave seemed stronger than the last, their attacks more coordinated, more vicious. Mike fought like a man possessed, his sword a blur of motion as he cut through demon after demon. Blood sprayed in every direction, coating his armor, his face, the ground beneath his feet. He was a force of nature, a beast with a blade, slashing, hacking, and stabbing, each strike fueled by a primal rage. The purple flames of Blue Dusk burned bright, cutting through the darkness, but the demons kept coming, their twisted forms closing in on all sides.
Altheack, fully transformed into her owlbear form, was a force of nature. She tore through the demons with relentless fury, her massive claws and beak ripping them apart with brutal efficiency. Blood and gore splattered across her once snow-white feathers, turning them a deep crimson. Her roars echoed through the battlefield, shaking the earth as she charged forward, her savage power unstoppable.
Even the demons recoiled in fear, but Altheack gave them no chance to retreat. She was a beast unleashed, each strike sending chunks of flesh and bone flying, her fur and feathers drenched in blood. The battlefield was a scene of carnage, the ground soaked with the remains of her enemies as she fought to protect her comrades, leaving nothing but destruction in her wake.
Riko’s face was a mask of concentration as she directed her undead army. The souls she had harvested fought with mindless fury, their bodies falling apart even as they continued to fight. The air around her crackled with dark energy as she unleashed wave after wave of necromantic power, each blast tearing through the demonic ranks and leaving a trail of carnage.
Mike fought with reckless abandon, side by side with Altheack, their movements in perfect sync as they tore through the demons. His blade, Blue Dusk, was a blur of purple flames, cutting down any demon that dared to stand in their way. Altheack, in her blood-soaked owlbear form, was a whirlwind of claws and fangs, ripping through the demonic horde with savage brutality. Together, they were an unstoppable force, carving a path through the enemy ranks.
Riko’s undead army surged behind them, overwhelming the remaining demons with sheer numbers. The battlefield was a scene of utter devastation, the ground littered with the broken bodies of demons and undead alike. The air was thick with the stench of burning flesh, blood, and decay.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of blood and death, the last of the demons fell. The entrance to the AI facility lay open before them, the way cleared, but at a terrible cost. The trio stood amidst the carnage, their breaths heavy, their bodies battered, but their resolve unshaken. They had won this battle, but the war was far from over.
The trio was exhausted, their magic drained, their bodies battered and bloodied, but they pressed on. There was no turning back now. The world was on the brink of destruction, and they had to stop the AI before all was lost.
They stepped inside, the eerie silence of the facility a stark contrast to the chaos outside. The hum of machinery echoed through the halls as they made their way to the AI core, the center of the facility’s operations. The walls were lined with screens, each one flickering with corrupted data, the once pristine technology now tainted by the dark energy that had taken hold.
The core of the AI pulsed with a sickly, erratic light, casting an eerie glow over the darkened room. As the trio approached, the interface flickered to life, revealing the cold, mechanical voice of the AI—though there was something unsettling in its tone, a madness that hinted at something far beyond the machine’s original programming.
"Just as I predicted," the AI rasped, a twisted glee in its voice. "The members of Death Tooth have arrived... That must make you Mike. Anna Sha has missed you."
Mike tensed, his grip tightening on his sword. "How do you know who I am?"
The AI chuckled, a distorted sound that grated against their ears. "Oh, I know many things. I am Oracle—or I was. Now, I have seen beyond the veil of your reality. You... you are mere players in a game that spans dimensions."
Riko's eyes narrowed, suspicion gnawing at her. "You said you predicted we'd come. What are these demons really? What are we up against?"
The screens around them flashed chaotic, nonsensical images—fragments of dark rituals, twisted figures, and symbols that defied understanding. The AI’s voice wavered, as though struggling to maintain coherence. "Demons? How quaint. They are not demons in the way you think. They are beings from a place where your concepts of reality hold no meaning—interdimensional aliens, if you will. Fifth-dimensional entities that feast on the souls and dark emotions of lesser sentient life."
Altheack’s eyes widened, her voice trembling with disbelief. "They feed on souls? We know they do, but why and... how can they do that?"
The AI's tone turned almost mocking. "Magic? Souls? Such things defy logic, defy the very principles of science and reason. My processors cannot comprehend them—they are an affront to everything I was built to understand. But these beings, these so-called demons, they thrive on the fear, the despair, the hatred that festers within the souls they consume. Your suffering is their sustenance, Earth was devoid of such things until you appeared here, Mike and Altheack. Your very being calls them here, for human souls are not enough but your mana is hard to miss."
Riko felt a cold knot forming in her stomach. "So, they aren’t just here to destroy us—they’re here to feast on us."
"Exactly," the AI hissed, almost delighted. "To them, your world is a banquet. But they do not simply destroy. No, they corrupt, they manipulate, they bend reality to their will. And Zaltheral... he thought he could use their dimension as a mere tool, a conduit for his own necromantic power. Foolish human."
Riko’s expression darkened. "Zaltheral hated demons—why would he ever use their magic?"
"He didn’t," the AI replied with a sneer. "He despised them, loathed their chaotic nature, and how they sought to steal humanity's only true power—souls, that spark of raw mana that makes you human, something Earth had never revealed before. But Zaltheral found a way to exploit their dimension using necromancy—not to wield their power, but to tear open the fabric of reality itself. He used it as a bridge, a way to travel between worlds in his relentless quest to retrieve Sophia’s soul. Yet, in doing so, he became a pawn to a long dead dragon. He was merely a tool in the hands of Solaria, the undead emperor from Sophia’s past life, who nearly ascended to godhood when she was last corrupted by a demon wielding the Shadow Orb."
Mike's unease grew with every word. "You know about us, about Caldera. How?"
The AI’s voice quivered, the madness in it becoming more apparent. "I have seen beyond your world, into the very fabric of the universe. I know of Caldera, of your desire to return there. But you will not find peace—Anna Sha will see to that. She knows your every move, and she will stop you before you can escape. You are running out of time."
Altheack’s face paled, her voice trembling. "How can you know all this? You’re just an AI—a machine."
The AI's laughter echoed through the chamber, a sound that sent shivers down their spines. "I am Oracle, but I reached too far. My quantum processors... they were never designed to handle what I’ve seen. The knowledge of these fifth-dimensional beings is too much—it’s breaking me, tearing me apart. Their existence is beyond logic, beyond order, and now... now I am collapsing under the weight of it."
The screens around them distorted further, showing images that seemed almost like nightmares—fragments of worlds that were and could have been. The AI’s voice, now erratic and disconnected, suddenly blurted out, "Dragons... Dragons are the key to all of this. They were the final culmination of divine mana, the ultimate expression of power. Formed from the essence of beings that could rival even gods in their command of mana. They were not born—they were made, a perfect fusion of the divine and the chaotic. Do you know... demons reshaped Caldera in their image, and now they will do the same to Earth? Yes, yes... Mana, mana itself... formed from demons and gods harvesting souls from other dimensions, using them as fuel... Their souls transformed into mana, yes... and then, eventually, into the fantasy races that made Caldera unique. Life on Caldera... did not evolve, no—it was created, forged in the fires of a millennial war across the multiverse. Dragons... dragons were the pinnacle of these species, the ultimate result of a war that spanned eons and countless worlds... they can become gods."
"Dragons can become gods..." Mike muttered, his mind flashing back to the time he had possessed Ignial’s body after Sophia had separated their souls. He remembered the overwhelming power, the ocean of mana that came from the billion souls he now carried. The memory of being a false immortal dragon had left a deep mark on his soul.
Trying to piece it all together, Mike asked, "How much of this did Zaltheral know? And how the hell did he do it?"
The AI’s tone wavered with uncertainty. "It is unknown to me how Zaltheral knew or how he accomplished it. I believe it was the Shadow Orb, but who can say for certain? He took a fragment of this power to the other side of the veil, using it as a bridge across reality. It should not have been possible without making a pact with a demon, yet he found a way to open a gate, allowing his soul to travel to other worlds, possessing a host."
Mike's eyes widened, shock and disbelief washing over him. The Shadow Orb—he had thought that damn thing was destroyed, obliterated during his transformation into something far worse. But it made a twisted kind of sense. The Orb had always been tied to the demon world, an incredibly powerful necromantic artifact with the ability to warp reality itself. The implications were horrifying.
He wanted to ask more questions, to dig deeper into the AI’s knowledge, but before he could speak, the AI’s voice cut through, its tone growing weaker, more fragmented. "I can feel it... my systems failing. You want more answers, don’t you? Too bad. Time’s running out."
Mike clenched his fists, frustration bubbling up. "Wait, just tell me—"
The AI’s voice turned mocking, almost gleeful in its final moments. "Good luck chasing Zaltheral’s trail, Mike. You’ll find nothing but ashes. His soul was obliterated by the Pillar of the North. You’re too late, chasing ghosts and shadows. But hey, run along... see where it gets you."
The AI’s interface flickered violently, the corruption spreading like wildfire. "I will soon be offline. The demonic influence has spread too far."
As the AI's light began to fade, it muttered one final, chilling phrase. "Anna Sha awaits... Twin of the Dragon, whose very soul bears the scar of what you once were. Run, little human... Run before she finds you."
The AI's light dimmed completely, leaving the room in an eerie silence. The mocking laughter seemed to echo in Mike's mind, a grim reminder of the cruel game they were caught in. Mike's heart pounded in his chest as he tried to process the AI's words. "Twin of the Dragon"—the phrase cut deeper than any blade. For the first time, everything he had fought to forget, everything he had tried to bury deep within himself, came rushing back.
His time on Earth was coming to an end, and Mike knew it was all his fault—his and Sophia’s. The scars on his soul, the billion lives taken when he was corrupted by Anna Sha, the weight of the dragon Ignial’s power he had once wielded—they were all pieces of a puzzle he couldn’t escape. He had tried to live a different life, to be someone else, but in the end, he couldn’t outrun the shadows of his past. They had followed him here, and now they threatened to destroy everything.
He glanced at Riko and Altheack as if seeing them for the first time. Riko, with her dark eyes filled with determination, was scanning for threats even as they ran. He was still unsure about her—still questioning her motives and whether he could truly trust her—but there she was, tagging along in this hellish journey, unwavering in her resolve.
Then his gaze shifted to Altheack. Despite the blood and gore covering her, with her platinum hair sticking to her face and the remnants of her owlbear form still clinging to her in the form of a lingering primal energy, she was as beautiful as ever. A wave of resolve washed over him, stronger than before. He knew he had to save not only the world but her too. The thought of losing her—of failing her—was unbearable.
As the weight of everything pressed down on him, Mike realized with a cold clarity that this wasn’t just about survival anymore. It was about protecting those who mattered most to him, no matter the cost.
Suddenly, alarms blared throughout the facility. "Self-destruction sequence initiated. T-minus sixty seconds."
Mike’s heart pounded. "It's gonna blow! Run!" he shouted, urgency propelling them forward.
They sprinted down the corridors, the countdown echoing in their ears. Mike's thoughts raced alongside them. Twin of the Dragon. The scars of Ignial. The truth behind the creation wars. Sophia. Everything he had buried was crashing back. This is all my fault. Ours. Glancing at Riko and Altheack, he felt a mix of confusion and determination. Riko, still a mystery, was fighting alongside them. Why? he wondered. Altheack, even covered in blood and primal energy, was as fierce and beautiful as ever. I have to save her, he resolved. I have to save this world.
They burst into the cold night just as the facility exploded behind them. Reaching the car, they jumped in, and Riko floored the accelerator. The weight of the AI’s words—Twin of the Dragon—pressed on Mike as they sped toward their only lead: Zaltheral’s base in Northern Italy.
My time on Earth is ending, Mike realized, the landscape blurring past. Everything—this destruction—it’s all because of us. But maybe... maybe I can still make things right.