Raven hovered silently above the Kremlin, its massive walls sprawling beneath him.
Yes, he can indeed fly, but his control didn't allow him to do so for too long
'I'll make this quite quick.'
The sun was dipping low, casting long shadows over the crimson bricks, but his gaze never left one spot: the president's private chambers.
He didn't need to tear the whole place down. That would be too much, even for him. But anyone close enough to the president? There was no way they were innocent in Raven's eyes.
Taking a slow breath, he gathered the raw power of Aether in his hands. The air around him grew heavy, charged with energy.
Then, with sharp focus, he thrust his hands forward. A spear of pure Aether shot out, cutting through the Kremlin walls like they were made of paper.
Stone and metal exploded in a shower of debris as the blast tore through the chamber inside. The president, along with everyone nearby, was gone in an instant — obliterated by the sheer force.
[You have levelled up]
…
For a moment, all that remained was silence. A silence so deep it felt like the world was holding its breath. The screams never came. They were stopped before they even had a chance.
Below, alarms blared and soldiers scrambled, but Raven was already gone, fading into the darkening sky.
Amelia, held tightly in his grip, looked up at him, her voice sharp and full of fury.
"That was… excessive. You didn't have to kill so many."
Raven's face was cold, unreadable. "Innocence isn't a luxury I can afford. They all made their choice."
She spat out a curse, struggling against him. "What about justice? What about proof?"
Her father had always promised her that power would keep her safe.
Now, seeing Raven tear the Kremlin apart with a single strike, all she felt was betrayal. Betrayal that her father's power had been nothing. Betrayal that she had been dragged into this by the man who destroyed him
He tightened his grip just enough to remind her she was trapped mid-air. "Proof means nothing when lives are on the line. This ends here."
The city shrank beneath them, the Kremlin's broken walls a grim reminder of his judgment.
The wind tore past as Raven's thoughts drifted, memories of loss, of revenge, and the long path he'd travelled.
'It's over', he thought quietly.
Amelia's voice broke through the silence, quieter this time. "Do you really think it's over?
Raven glanced down at her, a rare flicker of something — respect, maybe — crossing his features.
"Yes, my revenge is finished."
"Then what about mine?"
Raven didn't answer immediately. Instead, he shifted her weight slightly in his arms and, with his free hand, pulled his phone from his pocket.
A few taps brought up an audio file. Ivanov's panicked confession in his own voice, with all the details laid bare for the world to see.
He quickly put a filter over the sections with his voice and added subtitles where needed.
'If I'm going to do this, it has to be perfect.'
He sent the recording to every major news outlet he could think of, then dumped it across dozens of anonymous accounts on social media. Within seconds, his phone lit up — comments, likes, shares pouring in like a flood.
Amelia twisted in his grip, eyes burning into him. "What are you doing?"
"Making sure the people hear the truth," he said, not bothering to look at her.
Her glare sharpened. "And what truth is that? That you're nothing but a murderer?"
He didn't answer. The phone slipped back into his pocket as his gaze swept the streets below. Pockets of light were gathering, movement swelling. The Kremlin still burned, but now the fire was catching somewhere else entirely.
By morning, the recording would be everywhere. By the end of the week, anyone tied to the conspiracy would be hunted down by their own.
Raven looked down at her, an unreadable smirk tugging at his lips. 'You'll find out soon enough.'
…
The journey back was quite unremarkable…
Raven had waited to see the beginning of the chaos erupt in Moscow, but then swiftly left before anyone might catch a glimpse of him.
Amelia's body finally went limp, exhaustion dragging her into unconsciousness. Raven shifted her weight in his grip, eyes scanning the horizon. They were far enough from Moscow now that the city's lights blurred into the distance.
'She doesn't look half bad when she isn't throwing ice at me,' he thought briefly, then pushed the thought aside as if it meant nothing.
Landing lightly on a stretch of empty field, he released the flow of Aether that had carried them. His reserves thinned faster than he liked. Better to conserve what he had left for what came next.
He glanced once at the girl resting against his arm. "Rest. You'll need it," he muttered, more to the night than to her.
No smile. No softness. Just fact.
Adjusting her position, Raven started forward, boots crunching against the dirt road that would eventually take them back to Vladivostok. The Kremlin still burned in his mind's eye, but he didn't look back. There was no reason to. The dead couldn't follow.
Only the living could.
And he had no intention of slowing down for anyone.