Nike had seen enough.
She could no longer stay silent—
Not when every step she took seemed to bring her deeper into a trail of violence and broken bodies.
For what felt like an eternity, she had walked behind the boy she once knew, her childhood friend, the one who used to laugh with her under sunlit skies and sneak her sweets when the elders weren't looking.
But that boy was nowhere to be found now.
Instead, in his place stood someone she barely recognized—someone whose rapier flashed like lightning and whose expression had grown as cold and unreadable as a frozen lake in winter.
Arthur had become a storm, cutting down everything in his path without hesitation, without remorse.
Nike had watched him sever arms with clinical precision.
The sound of steel meeting flesh had become all too familiar.
Screams echoed in her ears like a dirge.
And now, in front of her, another person—this time, a young woman—trembled.
Arthur raised his blade again.
