The forest lay in ruin. Smoke curled like serpents through the shattered trees, and the scent of scorched earth mingled with blood. Ragnar stood amidst the chaos, claws still smoldering from the Purge Unit clash. Every muscle screamed, every breath flared fire across his chest, but he remained upright. His shadow pulsed at his feet, tendrils writhing hungrily, hungry for the next challenge.
Selene crouched against a splintered tree, silver veins faintly glowing along her arms. Each breath was a battle, the curse gnawing at her lifespan with every flicker of her chains. Yet her gaze was steady, sharp as a blade, scanning the path the hunters had disappeared down.
"They won't stop," she whispered, voice tight with exhaustion. "Executors, Purge Units… they'll come again. Not until one of us is dead."
Ragnar's shadow stretched, a living darkness coiling around his legs. Let them come. Take it all. Devour their Laws. The voice of the shadow pulsed like a heartbeat in his mind.
Clenching his fists, black flames crawling up his talons, he said, "Then let them try. Every fragment, every Law—they'll fall before me."
Selene's silver chains flared, weaving around her trembling arms, light slicing through the night. "And when there's nothing left of them… and nothing left of you?" Her words struck deeper than any blade. Ragnar's chest tightened. He had no answer.
The tension broke with a sharp crack. From the ruined temple's edge, a tall figure emerged, cloak dragging through ash and debris. Calm. Calculated. Dangerous. His eyes glinted with sharp focus, not madness, but a predator's patience.
"I've been watching you," he said evenly. "Your power… it's dangerous. And that makes you useful."
Ragnar's claws flared instinctively. "Who are you?"
"Kael," the man replied, voice flat. "I am hunted too. But I know when to stay silent and when to kill. You? You're still learning."
Selene's eyes narrowed, questioning. Kael's lips twitched into something faint—almost a smirk. "…When the battlefield screams, I'll be the one asking: Where is my opponent? I will crush them."
The words hung in the air like steel. Ragnar's shadow pulsed, writhing with anticipation.
Suddenly, the temple's entrance erupted with noise—shouts, clashing steel, grunts. Two figures stumbled inside, arguing fiercely.
"You're reckless, Dax!"
"And you're a coward, Ruin!"
Their fight froze when they saw Ragnar, Selene, and Kael. The room's tension snapped into silence, sharp as a blade.
Selene allowed herself a faint, weary smile
"Looks like you're not alone anymore, monster."
Ragnar exhaled slowly, letting the ember of companionship flicker amid exhaustion. Every bond formed in this world carried weight—fragile, dangerous, and necessary.
Outside, the night waited. The Purge Units would return, stronger, more relentless. Other eyes were already watching, plotting. But for now, the shadow-born and cursed stood together, ready to face what would come.
Ragnar's black flames surged higher. His shadow spread, wings of darkness unfurling behind him, hungry, alive. The quiet hum of power whispered in his ears: Let them come.
Every shred of power… mine to devour.
And in the heart of the ruined forest, against ash and smoke, the night itself seemed to hold its breath.
Let them come.