The warehouse burned, heat pressing down. Ash drifted lazily through broken windows, carried on currents of smoke.
Sachu stumbled backward, chest heaving, sweat and soot dripping down his face. His arms shook violently, the cursed blade nearly slipping from his grip.
Viran loomed over him, eyes alight with cruel amusement. "Pathetic," he hissed, flicking his flaming blade with a casual motion that left scorched grooves in the floor. "Did you think you could challenge me?"
Sparks flew as his sword slammed into Sachu's side, sending him skidding across the concrete. Pain erupted through his ribs—sharp, excruciating, like knives slicing through bone. The shadow around his blade flickered and weakened.
"Stop… please…" Sachu rasped, his voice barely audible over the roar of flames.
Viran crouched down, placing a boot on his chest. The heat radiating from his body burned Sachu's skin, and the firelight made Viran's pale eyes gleam like cold embers.
"You're nothing," Viran said softly. "Weak. Afraid. Your morality is your prison."
He slammed his fist into Sachu's stomach. Sachu vomited, wheezing, tasting blood and ash. Shadows beneath him thinned, fading like smoke in the wind.
Sachu's vision swam. His breaths came in sharp, desperate gasps.
And then—Mia.
"NO!" she shouted, breaking through his tunnel of pain.
She charged, swinging the rusted pipe with all her strength. Sparks flew as it slammed into Viran's side. The strike barely staggered him, but it was enough to divert his attention.
"Step away from him!" Mia screamed.
Viran's eyes snapped toward her. The smile that had been so cold and cruel twisted with fury. "How dare—"
The fire in his hand flared violently, scorching the concrete around him. Heat licked Mia's hair and face, but she didn't flinch. She swung again, forcing him to stagger back, just enough.
Sachu coughed, choking on blood and smoke, watching her as if seeing her for the first time. Without her, he would already be ash, his lifeblood consumed by Viran's blade.
Something inside him shattered. Rage, fear, desperation—everything fused into one sharp point, slicing through the haze of pain. Shadows around him trembled, then writhed. They twisted upward, hungry, sentient, obeying the command he hadn't known he could give.
A darkness unlike any before erupted from him. Shadows erupted from the floor, swirling around his body. His skin paled further, veins black as ink rising to the surface. His eyes glowed faintly, pupils burning with obsidian fire.
And then he changed.
Four shadowed arms erupted from his back, long, slender, sinuous like living tendrils. Each ended in claws black as night, writhing and snapping as if tasting the air. He rose slowly, effortlessly, floating above the ground, the cursed sword still in his grip.
Viran's grin faltered. "What… what is this?"
"You… you were going too far," Sachu whispered, voice calm but lethal, echoing with the power of the shadows. "You killed… everything. You left me no choice."
Viran's flames roared in defiance, circling his blade, licking the air, scorching the concrete beneath. He swung, sending arcs of fire toward Sachu. But the shadow arms intercepted, slashing and bending around the fire, dissolving it on contact like ink in water.
Sachu's new form pulsed with life, shadows flowing from his chest, coiling around his legs, arms, and back. His body hovered, silent but immense.
Viran charged, blade extended, eyes wild with rage. But the shadows moved faster, faster than his fire could strike, faster than the human eye could follow. Each shadow arm struck with surgical precision—snapping around his torso, twisting his sword aside, slamming him backward into a wall. Concrete cracked under the impact.
"You…" Viran rasped, staggering, coughing, sweat and ash streaking his pale face. "You're not… human…"
Sachu's voice remained calm, almost eerily so. "I'm your death."
He struck with all four shadow arms simultaneously. Each clawed at Viran's limbs, torso, and neck. The cursed blade followed, plunging deep. Fire met shadow, but this time, the shadows held fast, feeding on his rage and fear.
The fire around him vanished. The shadows consumed, pulled in, erased every trace of warmth, life, and flame.
Viran's body stiffened, eyes wide, jaw slack. Then he collapsed, fading like smoke into nothingness, leaving behind only scorched concrete and the faint echo of whispers.
Sachu's chest heaved, blood and sweat running down his pale skin. The shadow arms retracted slowly, folding into his body, leaving him floating, trembling, but alive. His eyes glowed faintly, tired but victorious.
His body fell, hitting the cracked floor with a dull, heavy thud.
Mia rushed through the smoke, stumbling over debris until she reached him. "Sachu!"
He didn't move. His chest rose faintly—barely. His skin was cold, his face pale under the dim light.
"No, no, no…" She dropped to her knees, pulling him into her arms. The cursed sword lay beside them, its dark sheen flickering weakly.
Then, slowly, he stirred.
His eyes fluttered open. "...Mia?"
Before he could say another word, she threw her arms around him. He stiffened at first—his body still humming with the aftershock of shadow energy—but slowly, his muscles relaxed. The blade slipped from his grasp, hitting the floor with a dull clang as he returned her embrace.
Her face pressed into his chest, streaked with soot and tears. "I thought you were gone," she whispered, voice trembling. "You just—you stopped breathing for a second and I—"
Sachu raised a shaky hand, brushing her hair away from her face. His fingertips left faint smudges of ash on her cheek. "I'm still here," he murmured. "Thanks to you."
Mia looked up at him then, her eyes wide and soft in the flickering light. "You scared me, idiot."
A weak smile tugged at his lips. "Guess I do that a lot."
Her hands gripped his shirt tighter. "Don't joke. Not now."
For a moment, the world was only them—their uneven breaths, the scent of smoke, the faint hum of shadow energy still clinging to him. He felt his heartbeat calm, steady, syncing with hers.
Sachu leaned closer, forehead resting against hers. "You shouldn't have come between us," he said quietly. "If his blade had touched you…"
"But it didn't," Mia cut him off, her voice steady despite the tears. "And if I hadn't, you wouldn't be standing here."
He exhaled, the last of his fury dissolving. "You're too brave for someone so fragile."
She smiled faintly. "Then maybe you're too gentle for someone so cursed."
For the first time since the fight began, Sachu laughed—a soft, broken sound that somehow felt warm.
"I don't know what I'd do without you, Mia," he said. His voice was low, honest, almost afraid of the truth it carried.
"You won't have to find out," she whispered.
Their eyes met.
They stayed like that for a long time.
The fire outside had long died, leaving only the faint silver glow of moonlight through the broken roof.
Mia didn't let go, and Sachu didn't ask her to. Their eyes met in the quiet aftermath, neither speaking, both too afraid the moment would shatter if they did.
The night stretched on.
When dawn finally bled across the horizon, they rose together. The warehouse behind them was nothing but ash and memory.
Without a word, Sachu reached out his hand. Mia took it.
And side by side, they walked away from the ruins.