Arthur stood across from Clyde, blade raised. Light spirits whirled around the sword like watchful eyes, their glow pulsing in time with his heartbeat.
Across from him, Clyde raised his palm, then slowly shut his eyes.
"Will I pass your judgment," Arthur asked, voice calm, "or will you execute me?"
Clyde's eyes peeled open—cold, unreadable. "You still don't understand."
In a blink, he vanished.
A heartbeat later, he reappeared behind Vesper.
The general stiffened, slowly turning to face him. "What's the plan here?" His tone was laced with unease, a touch too casual.
Clyde didn't answer. He simply glanced at Arthur in the distance, then back at Vesper.
"Your work is done."
Before Vesper could react, Clyde's blade sank into his skull—clean, merciless. He twisted it once before ripping it free, blood misting the air like ink in water.
"The Blights were useful," Clyde said, sheathing his blade as Vesper's body dropped to the dirt. "They taught me what no one else could. With this knowledge, I'll surpass even Aurelius. Once that happens, this world will change. No more systems. No more chains."
Arthur roared and charged. Clyde flicked the blood from his sword, spinning to meet him. His blade flashed once—Ren barely dodged the arc. Sparks scattered across the battlefield.
Arthur locked swords with him, lunar energy building in the steel. "Go, Ren!" he barked. "Take everyone home!"
"What…?" Ren faltered, eyes wide. "Wait—"
"Go!" Arthur growled, driving Clyde back a step.
Ren clenched his jaw, then pivoted and sprinted across the field toward the others. "Is he good to go?" he called out.
Rin looked up from the machine's base. "Lyra and I checked it."
"Freeze it," Lyra said flatly, not even turning to him.
Ren hesitated. "All of it? That much energy—I could trigger a surge."
"It won't blow," Lyra replied.
"You need to freeze it before we get Sosuke out," Rin added.
Clyde's voice cut through the air like a blade. "You can't stop Phase Two!"
He and Arthur clashed again, Clyde driving him back with a series of brutal swings.
"You fools think the first surge was everything?" Clyde spat. "Only a fraction of Estrella's mana was tapped to power the gateway. Phase Two… Phase Two is the reset. The true merging of our worlds. Our New Day!"
The machine—twisted metal crowned with glowing mana cores—screamed to life.
It pulsed once. A low, thrumming beat that echoed through bone and stone.
Then it convulsed.
Waves of mana exploded outward, tossing everyone to the ground like rag dolls. Dirt ripped free from the earth. Sparks of arcane light lit up the air. The sky turned violet, then gold.
The machine opened.
A circular bloom unfurled at its center, like a flower of radiance. Mana funneled upward in a dazzling spiral—thick particles lifting into the atmosphere in streams of iridescent fire.
Then it fired.
A colossal beam of pure mana erupted from the machine's core and blasted into the heavens. The sky tore like paper.
The beam didn't just pierce it—it unstitched reality.
Above, space itself split open. A jagged seam widened, twisting with color and emptiness. The mana beam latched onto something far above and yanked it down.
The wormhole was born.
A hollow, circular gate of cosmic energy bloomed high overhead, its rim humming with unnatural force. Through its center—upside down—lay the Blight Dimension. The worlds were now mirrors of each other, linked at the sky. Anyone stepping into the portal on Earth's side would fall downward into the Blight, and vice versa.
Ren shielded his eyes from the searing glow. "There were more!"
"What?!" Rin shouted, bracing herself on one knee.
Across the world, beams of energy rose into the sky—dozens, hundreds—ripping tears through the atmosphere. From mountain tops. Ocean trenches. Forgotten ruins.
The seams in space widened.
And from each, the same impossible gate: one end on Earth, the other in the Blight. A lattice of dimensional wounds stretched across the heavens like a web.
They had connected the skies of both worlds. Not metaphorically. Literally.
The light throbbed once more—then dimmed, just slightly. The roaring beam stabilized, still firing upward in an unbroken column of raw energy. It carved through the skies like a divine pillar, anchoring the connection between two worlds. Earth and Morvain, forcibly stitched together at the seams. Gravity itself twisted around the breach.
Then—click.
Sosuke's restraints snapped open. His limp body collapsed to the floor.
"Sosuke!" Rin dropped beside him in an instant, sliding a hand beneath his back. Ren followed, helping her lift him upright.
Sosuke didn't respond.
Behind them, Lyra stepped forward. Her fingers bloomed with rose-colored mana that shaped itself into a solid blade—elegant, jagged, and deadly.
"I'm staying with Arthur." Her voice was flat. Final. "Get out of here."
"He said to go!" Ren snapped, eyes wide. "Don't be reckless—don't throw yourself into a fight just to get revenge. There's more at stake—"
"Nothing you say will change my mind." Lyra turned away, already walking toward the distant clash of steel. "So leave."
A cough rattled from Sosuke's throat.
They all froze.
"Reid's… alive." Sosuke's voice was hoarse and broken, barely above a whisper. "They have him. He's—he's being held."
Lyra halted mid-step. She whipped around, wide-eyed. "Where?!"
"I… I don't know." Sosuke pressed his hand to his temple, wincing in pain. "It's all scrambled. I can't see clearly. But it's him. I felt it."
Silence. Then a breath.
"I'm still staying," Lyra muttered, almost to herself. She looked toward the beam piercing the sky, eyes dark with purpose. "Arthur's not fighting alone."
Ren stared at her for a long moment, then exhaled. "Alright."
He turned to the others. "Rin, Isabelle. Let's get out of here."
"I'll keep him safe," Elowen said, already pouring a soft green glow into Sosuke's chest. "Just hold on, Sosuke."
Sosuke groaned, squinting up at the storm of mana overhead. "I'm not dying," he muttered. "I've felt worse." His eyelid twitched. "Unfortunately."
Isabelle glanced up at the swirling rift. "Ren… we can't use Sosuke's partaking ability like this."
"I know," Ren said. "We don't need it."
He reached into his coat and pulled out a black crystal, flickering with violet sparks.
"Plan B. Arthur gave it to me in case things went south."
Rin raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"
Ren clenched the shard, and it cracked. A ripple of mana surged outward. Space warped ahead of them—folding like fabric—and a dark portal tore open. Unlike the smooth vortex above, this one sputtered, unstable. But it led home.
"To Earth," Ren said.
Wind whipped around them. The air screamed.
Isabelle, Elowen, Rin, and Ren carried Sosuke together. The portal yawned wider as they sprinted toward it.
Lyra didn't look back.
She approached Arthur's side as Clyde emerged through the mist, sword gleaming with blood.
The wormhole loomed above, still roaring. But the exit behind them flickered, on the verge of collapsing.
Rin paused just before stepping through, glancing over her shoulder.
"Stay alive," she whispered.
Lyra didn't respond.
The portal swallowed them whole—and closed.
——
Interior: The Palace Entrance
The grand doors stood wide open. As if expecting him.
Gabriel entered with quiet steps, his pristine robes trailing across the marbled floor. The air pulsed faintly—an echo of ancient mana clinging to the architecture. At the end of the hall stood Silas, hands empty, posture relaxed. Yet something was… off.
"The Lord awaits you," Silas said, voice hollow. "He knew you'd come today."
Gabriel tilted his head, eyes narrowing. "Strange. You feel… hollow. That vast power of yours—gone. Why?"
"Shall I lead you to Lord Julius?" Silas asked again, unmoving.
Gabriel offered a wry smirk. "No need."
⸻
Exterior: Palace Courtyard
Julius stood alone beneath the fractured sky.
The wormhole had torn itself open moments ago, a storm of stars and shattered gravity swirling high above, connecting two heavens. Yet he regarded it not as chaos, but art. As triumph. As destiny.
Petals scattered near the flowerbeds where Gabriel now sat, resting on a stone bench like a man waiting for tea rather than war.
"So this is it?" Gabriel asked. "Decades in hiding, and you finally crawl from your hole to ruin the world again?"
Julius didn't turn. "There was no hiding. Only waiting. Back then, I wasn't even fully conscious. Primitive instincts. But even then—I understood your fear. I tasted it."
"I remember you trembling," Gabriel said.
Julius turned, heat rising visibly from his skin. "No. I felt no fear. Only disgust. You squander your gifts, dressing them in mercy. That's why I detest you. You hide behind ideals."
"I don't hide," Gabriel said, standing. "I judge. Creatures like you were never cursed by fate. You are the curse. That's why I exist—to end you."
Julius cracked his neck, sighing. "I wanted to keep the palace intact. But fine."
"No need." Gabriel appeared before him in a blink, fingers closing around Julius' throat.
A single movement—and Julius was airborne.
He smashed through marble, then another wall, then out into the open plaza. Before debris even settled, Gabriel raised his hand—
FSSSHHHH—
A blazing beam tore through space, unstable and white-hot, vaporizing everything in its path.
Gabriel's magic snapped into action: a reflective veil layered with refracted time and bent air. The heat hit, slowed for an instant—but not stopped. Cracks spidered across his defense before it shattered, forcing Gabriel to teleport aside with a flash of fractal light.
He reappeared above, mid-air, casting runes in a language older than the stars. Each one twisted, collapsed, then birthed something unnatural: a coiling stream of obsidian wind laced with starlight that crashed down on Julius like a sentient blade.
Julius raised his palm. The heat vision fired again, but this time, it split—five jagged rays, wild and unstable. Each one curved unpredictably, hunting Gabriel's mana like bloodhounds.
Gabriel channeled his next spell through movement—his arm sweeping a crescent. An arcane ring bloomed around his body, and time inside it slowed. He walked through the battlefield as beams crawled around him like dying serpents, watching them flicker, bend, and fade before they reached him.
A taste. A fragment—The Authority.
And it vanished just as quickly.
Julius burst forward, crashing into Gabriel mid-step. Stone exploded beneath them. The two collided again and again, blows bending gravity with each strike. Julius moved like a living furnace—every punch releasing heatwaves that warped the air. Gabriel answered with technique: magic fused into motion, counterstrikes sealed in glyphs carved mid-swing.
Julius caught Gabriel's arm—and heat vision fired point-blank.
BOOM.
A column of raw destruction shot skyward. But when the light faded—Gabriel was already gone. A faint silhouette of feathers dissipated where he'd stood.
Above, Gabriel hovered, cloak shredded, blood on his cheek.
He spoke a word in no known tongue.
The entire sky rippled.
Julius looked up—and saw the stars begin to fall. Dozens of them. Each one a crystallized meteor, summoned from memory, layered with spells of acceleration and distortion.
Julius didn't move. He simply opened his eyes.
BOOM—BOOM—BOOM—
The meteors didn't even make contact. His gaze alone seared them to ash, mid-flight.
"You've only hidden how deep your power runs," Julius replied. "That trick just now… it wasn't magic."
Gabriel said nothing.
Julius raised both hands. The air darkened, heat folding space into chaotic whirlpools. "Let's burn away the pretense."
And the courtyard became a warzone.
Julius' heat vision spiraled now, unstable lashes that tore through dimensions. One glance split the palace walls in half. Another burned through his own barrier spells, uncaring of what they hit.
Gabriel moved like an echo—never present where the heat landed. Magic roared behind him: mirrors that bit back, spell circles made of memory, gravity sigils that rewrote momentum. One flick of his wrist created a prison of shadows. Another flash birthed a spectral beast that exploded on contact.
Each was elegant. Precise. Unfolding like poetry—but lethal.
Still, Julius pressed forward.
"You've always been the smartest of them," he growled. "But power isn't about intellect."
Gabriel stopped midair. "It's about control."
And for a split second, the entire battlefield froze.
Even Julius.
Just long enough for Gabriel's voice to echo in his mind:
"This is only a glimpse of what governs all things."
A second later, Julius screamed—the heat around him snapping and buckling, unable to stabilize.
But it passed.
Gabriel landed, breathing steady, eyes glowing faint gold.
Julius stood, arms smoking, blood trailing from his brow.