After what felt like an eternity, the group finally managed to regroup at a clearing. The sins had disappeared, leaving the survivors battered and broken. Xero and Afuwafu were in the middle of healing themselves with their natural regeneration, while Auforus was aiding Insanity, pouring healing potions Snow had given him before the fight.

Afuwafu, her face pale with worry, turned to Auforus. "I’m scared for my sister. She might’ve died out there… with Moxie," she murmured, her voice trembling.

Auforus glanced at her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "They could still be alive. Moxie’s tough. He won’t go down that easily."

Calypso, who had been quietly scanning for any signs of life, chimed in. "They’re not dead. I can still feel Snow’s aura… though it’s weak. But Moxie’s… I can barely sense him. His energy is fading."

Insanity, who had been silent, clenched his fists. Moxie had always been their ace, their strongest fighter. If he was in this bad of a shape, their chances of survival were dwindling.

Suddenly, the group heard rustling in the nearby bushes, followed by the sound of labored breathing. Everyone tensed, immediately preparing for another attack. Weapons were drawn, and eyes darted toward the source of the sound.

Snow’s limp body tumbled out of the bushes, and Xero rushed forward, gently lifting her up. "Snow!" Afuwafu called out, her heart pounding.

But then, a shadow emerged from the foliage. Afuwafu froze, her breath catching in her throat as she saw the figure dragging itself toward them. "Whoever’s there, come out!" she demanded, her voice shaky.

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And then she saw him—Moxie. His once formidable figure was reduced to a bloody, broken mess. His limbs hung uselessly, his face battered beyond recognition. His body was covered in fresh wounds, blood dripping from every pore. His steps were slow, agonizing, and with every move, more blood splattered onto the ground.

The rest of the group was equally horrified, some turning away to avoid the sight. Even Xero, usually so composed, felt a wave of nausea rising in her throat.

Moxie stumbled forward, his body giving out. He collapsed onto the ground with a sickening thud, blood pooling beneath him. Auforus was the first to react. "Help him, now!" he yelled.

As the group scrambled to assist Moxie, they couldn't shake the image of him so utterly defeated. This wasn’t the Moxie they knew. This was someone who had pushed himself beyond the limit, someone who had endured unimaginable pain to return to them.

In the depths of his soul, Moxie found himself in a tranquil, ethereal place. It was peaceful, serene—nothing like the chaos and destruction he had just escaped. Before him stood a familiar face: Liza.

She looked the same as she always had, yet there was something different about her now. She was radiant, angelic even. Her form was surrounded by a soft, heavenly glow, and her wings—pure and pristine—fluttered gently behind her. Tears filled her eyes as she rushed to embrace him.

"You idiot," she sobbed, burying her face into his chest. "You’re such a moron. Why do you always do this to yourself?"

Moxie smiled weakly, patting her head gently. "I’m fine, Liza. I’ll heal up soon enough."

Liza shook her head, her tears flowing freely. "I was so scared for you. I thought I lost you… again."

Moxie sighed softly, gazing down at her with a mix of affection and sorrow. "You’re safe now, Liza. That’s all that matters."

As he held her, an idea began to form in his mind. He looked at her angelic form, the power radiating from her presence. Maybe… just maybe, this was the key. The sins were powerful, beyond anything he had faced, but there was something divine about Liza’s energy—something that could turn the tide.

"I think I know how we can win this," Moxie whispered, his eyes gleaming with newfound determination. He pulled away slightly, looking at her with a renewed sense of purpose. "But I’ll need your help."