The air in the throne room was still—oppressive even—thick with the weight of something unspoken. A vast hall, shrouded in dim shadows, stretched out beneath an arched ceiling, long-abandoned by time. Vines crept through cracked stone columns, and faded murals lined the walls, telling stories of gods long forgotten. At the far end of the chamber, a throne stood.

  And upon it sat a man.

  His face was mostly concealed beneath a tattered hood, but one thing was unmistakable—those eyes. Violet. Deep and bright like dying stars, and unmistakably Nyxaran.

  Caelum stood still, muscles tense but not yet drawn for battle. Lucielle shifted beside him, her hand already hovering near her side, where her aetherforged blade could be summoned in an instant. She said nothing, but her posture betrayed her unease. Standing beside a Nyxaran—Varithra—was one thing. But now facing another, and in a place like this, everything felt off.

  Varithra, of course, showed no such hesitation. She stepped forward, chin high and voice steady. “Who are you? And what are you doing here?”

  The man did not respond.

  She narrowed her eyes. “How did you end up in this ruin? What’s your division?”

  Still, the man said nothing. He rose slowly from the throne, and even with his face hidden, his gaze burned straight through Caelum.

  “You are coming with me,” he said.

  Caelum sighed and rubbed his temple. “Really? Can’t we skip this part? The war’s paused, the second horn’s sounded. We’re all trapped here, remember?”

  Lucielle’s blade flared to life beside him, her golden light casting deep shadows across the broken floor. Varithra’s hand crackled with faint embers as she summoned her Entropic Flame.

  The man didn’t blink.

  Without a word, he conjured a black blade from his umbracraft, jagged and pulsing like a living wound. Shadows curled around it like smoke.

  “Put away the sword,” Varithra ordered sharply. “The second horn has sounded. If you break the rules, the Order will—”

  “I only need him,” the man cut in, voice like stone cracking under pressure. His blade pointed to Caelum. “Shut up and leave. Or both of you bitches die here too.”

  Lucielle blinked, stunned that a Nyxaran would speak to another Nyxaran like that. Varithra’s jaw tightened in disbelief. “You... You’re threatening your own kind?”

  “I don’t have a kind,” he said with venom. “Not anymore.”

  “You! I won’t warn you again—dispel your weapon or the Order—”

  The man lunged. Fast.

  Steel screamed against steel as Caelum’s aetherforged sword appeared just in time, intercepting the jagged umbra-blade inches from Varithra’s chest. Sparks danced through the room, and the sound echoed like thunder through the ancient hall.

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  Varithra stumbled back, staring in disbelief.

  Caelum gritted his teeth and pushed the man backward, sliding several feet along the stone floor. “You’re making a mistake,” Caelum growled. “You’re not the first to try. It never ends well.”

  The man’s glare was furious. “I don’t care. I don’t care about the Order. I don’t care about this fake war. Let the gods rot. The Order can walk straight into Erythos's flame for all I care. Let Nyxara burn. Give it a few more years—I’ll wipe the entire planet off the map myself.”

  The shadows around him pulsed with malice, and Caelum felt it then—pure hatred, old and festering. This man wasn’t just disillusioned. He was broken.

  Lucielle gasped softly, recognition flashing in her eyes. “You… You’re one of The Complete.”

  The name hung in the air like a curse.

  Caelum glanced back at her. “The what?”

  Varithra steadied herself, fire crackling brighter in her hand. “A group who abandoned their allegiance. They forsake their own home and choose to stay in Abyssia. No one knows why they stayed in Abyssia. No one knows their goals.”

  “Clearly,” Caelum muttered, “it’s nothing good.”

  “I’m just defending myself,” Varithra whispered, as her flames coiled around her arm.

  Lucielle nodded, summoning her own blade fully now, golden light illuminating her hair like a halo.

  Caelum turned toward her briefly, his voice firm. “Be extra careful. You know the blessing from Nyxara is lethal to a Luminaran.”

  “You don’t have to tell me to be careful,” she said to Caelum, voice low. “But if he’s a Complete, and he’s this hostile... we can’t let him leave.”

  The man roared and charged again.

  Caelum barely met his strike in time, their blades crashing together, light and shadow screaming with each blow. The umbracraft blade pulsed unnaturally, like it was alive—feeding on hate, feeding on fury.

  Lucielle darted to the side, flanking him. Her blade cut toward his ribs, but he twisted mid-swing and knocked her back with a blast of shadow. She skidded across the ground, her armor cracking against the stone.

  Varithra unleashed a column of Entropic Flame that seared through the air toward him. The man ducked under the incoming flame and surged forward, shadows clinging to his feet as he charged. He twisted his blade and deflected the stream of Entropic Flame with a well-timed slash, scattering embers into the air. The flames roared past him and licked against the wall, scorching the ancient stone.

  “Damn it,” Varithra hissed. “He’s stronger than he looks.”

  “Lucielle!” Caelum shouted.

  “I’m fine,” she growled, picking herself up and lunging again. This time her blade connected, cutting across his shoulder. A burst of shadow exploded from the wound, but the man didn’t cry out. He didn’t even flinch. He simply turned, grinning underneath that hood.

  Lucielle stumbled back. “He’s not reacting to pain.”

  “Then hit harder,” Caelum said, swinging down at him with a powerful arc. The man blocked, but the force cracked the stone beneath his feet.

  He retaliated instantly, lunging forward with a sudden burst of speed, his umbracraft sword carving through the air in a wide arc. Caelum sidestepped the swing and countered with his own strike, locking blades with the man again. The force sent a shockwave across the floor, dust and pebbles scattering. As Varithra moved in to flank, the man twisted, using the momentum of the clash to shove Caelum aside and lash out at her with a brutal backhand swing. She barely ducked under it, the edge of the blade slicing a few strands of her hair. Lucielle tried to engage from the other side, but the man spun, parrying her strike with uncanny precision and forcing her back several steps.

  “Alright, this is becoming tedious,” Lucielle muttered, breath short.

  The man surged toward Caelum again, locking swords once more.

  “You think you’re special?” he spat. “You think being born of both makes you better?”

  “No,” Caelum replied. “I think it makes me cursed. But that’s still better than being a lunatic.”

  He shoved the man back with a burst of raw light, blinding for a second. Lucielle moved in again, this time striking low while Varithra launched a wide arc of Entropic Flame high. The man jumped back, but Caelum had already blinked behind him.

  His blade slashed down.

  The man roared as light seared into his back.

  “I’ve fought a thousand like you,” Caelum said, panting. “This won’t end well for you.”

  Breathing ragged, the man’s hood fell back, revealing black hair matted to his face, eyes burning with something unhinged. “You’ll see,” he whispered. “You’ll all see. This world is already dead.”