At that same moment, inside the D.V. Global Headquarters command room, tension gripped the air.
ALARMS BLARE. Screens glitch. Signal bars drop. Every live feed from the battlefield cuts to black.
Tech officer: "We lost visuals. We lost everything—feeds are down!" Silence falls in the command center. All anyone can do is stare at the flickering red screen marked:
"SIGNAL LOST."
The storm lingers. The battlefield has gone still.
Then— a figure walks forward. One footstep. Then another. Slow. Calm. Unshaken. The dust begins to part, pulled away by some invisible gravity. And from within the light...
A silhouette emerges. Head lowered. Aura flickering like a controlled flame beneath his skin.
His pupils glow — deep red and molten gold. His breath is quiet. His body calm. He doesn't look around. He just walks — straight toward the heart of the battle. Each step resonates, slow and final, like war drums underwater.
Hunter(whispers, barely audible): "...is that?."
Another (terrified): "What the hell is he doing?" No one answers. They can't.
The few remaining DV Force members crouched nearby look on in stunned silence — torn between awe and fear. None of them move. None dare to speak. The air is heavy.
The Mindless, some distance ahead, slowly turns — eyes narrowing, body tensing. It doesn't charge yet. It senses something it doesn't understand. Something different.
Mindless (low): "Human..." Blake says nothing. He simply takes one final step — and the moment he does, the Mindless howls and lunges forward at blinding speed, tearing across the broken ground like a beast unleashed.
It's a blur.
But Blake moves only once. His hand lashes upward like a whip — and catches the Mindless mid-air by the throat. Impact stops. Momentum dies. The battlefield goes utterly still. Dust swirls around them like spiraling flames. The Mindless thrashes, claws digging into Blake's forearm but he doesn't flinch. Doesn't blink.
Inside his own mind, a whisper rose, his own voice, but distant, as if coming from somewhere deeper.
This feeling… it's not rage. It's not fear, either.
But... Something tells me ... To end it."
Blake pulls the Mindless closer. Leans forward and without hesitation — slams his forehead into its skull.
CRACK.
He doesn't raise his voice. The Mindless spits blood instantly, stunned. Before it can react—
Another headbutt.
WHAAM!
The Mindless twitches, dazed, mouth open, eyes wide with confusion — Blake releases his grip. The creature drops to its knees.
Silence.
Hunter (barely whispering): "Wha.. what was…?"
The Mindless trembling. Its glowing eyes flicker — And then, it collapses. THUD.
A beat.
Suddenly — a faint glimmer.
A ripple of blue-white light rises from the Mindless, like mist on a breeze.
It drifts upward — then seems to curve slightly toward Blake. He stands still as it floats past.
It hovers for a moment in front of him — then dissolves into the air like it was never there.
A brief silence follows. His eyes flicker — a subtle glow of red and gold flashes through his irises, then fades. He flexes his fingers. A strange calm settles over him. Then he speaks, quiet… almost unsure.
Blake (to himself): "I feel... lighter."
He walks across the broken field, past twisted metal and shattered stones. He kneels beside Ayla. Unconscious, bloodied, barely breathing. Gently… he lifts her.
Her hand, limp. Her head rests against his shoulder. He turns, and walks toward the edge of the crater. Straight through the field of stunned DV operatives and hunters.
Dusk settled over the crater ridge, the last light of day spilling across the edges of rock. DV Force soldiers begin to arrive — elite backup teams, Tier-class Hunters, medics, scouts.
They stop.
Weapons lower. What they see. A lone young man, bloodied, carrying a Hunter ranked above most of them, walking alone through the smoke. No words. Just Blake. They step aside instinctively. Blake steps onto clean ground. The sky darkens.
And then — the first drop of rain.
PIT.
Another. Within seconds — a quiet downpour, soft and steady. The water rolls over Blake's face, over Ayla's wounds. He stops. He looks up — Eyes closed, letting the water pour down his face.
Silence. Just the sound of rain.
D.V hunters and medics watch with silent terror.
Chairman (through static): "Unit Alpha, report. What happened down there? We lost contact mid-engagement. Is the target neutralized?"
No one answers. They all stare ahead again. Toward the figure in the rain.
The downpour continues. And Blake stands beneath it, a quiet anomaly wrapped in shadow and mystery —
Holding the broken pieces of the battle in his arms.