The city was broken, its people left to sift through the ashes of what remained. Among them was Harrin, a poor fisherman whose world had been reduced to nothing in a single, merciless instant. The ocean, once his lifeline, had turned red with blood in the battle’s wake. His home, a small shack near the ruined docks, stood battered but intact. His heart, however, had been torn beyond repair.

  His wife, Marella, was gone.

  Harrin had watched her die, not at the hands of the demon, but from that outsider’s reckless power. He had seen it, the searing wave of celestial energy that should have purged only evil but had instead torn through everything in its path. One moment, Marella had been holding their youngest, shielding him as best she could, and the next… she was collapsing, blood trickling from a wound she never should have suffered.

  And now, he was burying her alone.

  There was no time for proper funeral rites. No city priest to say the final blessings. The city’s cemeteries were inaccessible, and the remaining officials had ordered mass cremations for the countless bodies piling in the streets. But Harrin refused. Marella would not be reduced to ash and forgotten among the rest. She deserved better. So he had dug her grave himself, the callouses on his hands splitting open from the effort. His two children, Rial and Lenne, both too young to understand the full weight of loss, had gathered what little remained of their mother’s treasured possessions: a wooden comb she had always used, the seashell necklace Harrin had given her on their wedding day, and a small charm she had kept to protect them from bad fortune.

  The grave was shallow, the earth reluctant to swallow what was left of her. The three of them stood there, no one else around to witness their sorrow.

  Harrin clenched his fists, staring down at her lifeless body wrapped in linen. His voice cracked when he spoke. "Marella, I… I don’t know how to do this without you." He swallowed hard, forcing himself to keep going, for the sake of his children. "You always knew what to say. How to make things right. You kept us together. You were everything. And I… I failed you."

  Rial, barely old enough to carry the weight of grief, stepped closer, placing the necklace atop the linen wrap. His small hands trembled. "Will she be happy where she’s going?" he asked in a broken whisper.

  Harrin knelt, pulling both of his children into his arms. "She’ll be at peace," he murmured, though the words tasted like a lie. There was no peace in this. No justice. Only anger.

  As they covered the grave with dirt, a storm built inside of him. He could still see that outsider’s face, the silver-haired warrior who had destroyed more than she had saved.

  She did this.

  She took Marella away.

  His grief twisted into hatred. His fingers clenched the shovel so tightly his knuckles turned white.

  By the time the last bit of earth covered his wife’s remains, Harrin had made his decision.

  She was going to pay.

  After sending his children inside, he turned toward the city’s broken streets, his mind set. He wasn’t going to sit back and let this celestial bitch walk away unpunished. He would make the Senthos enforcers see reason. He would demand justice.

  Harrin’s feet carried him with purpose as he left behind the grave of the woman he loved and stepped toward the enforcers’ post, where his vengeance would begin.

  The Senthos enforcers’ makeshift command post was a crumbling structure, once a grand meeting hall now repurposed in the aftermath of battle. The air inside was thick with tension, officers barked orders, injured soldiers groaned as they were tended to, and scribes hurriedly penned reports detailing the destruction. A crowd had begun to form outside, survivors demanding answers, demanding justice. Harrin pushed through, his jaw tight, his fury carrying him forward.

  "Where is your commander?" His voice cut through the noise like a blade.

  A few enforcers turned, some wary, others simply exhausted. A captain, a broad-shouldered man with a scar running down his cheek, regarded him with a measured gaze. "Who are you, and what do you want?"

  Harrin clenched his fists. "Justice. For my wife. For Marella. She wasn’t killed by the demon. She was killed by that outsider, that celestial bitch you let walk free!"

  Murmurs spread through the crowd, his words igniting the restless anger already simmering. A woman nearby, her arm wrapped in a bloodied bandage, nodded sharply. "He’s right. Who will answer for all this? Who will hold her accountable?"

  The captain frowned, glancing at his fellow officers. "We’ve received… conflicting reports. Some claim she saved lives, others that she was responsible for part of the destruction. We cannot act without proper authorization."

  Harrin slammed his fist onto a nearby table, knocking over a set of parchment. "So you’ll do nothing? You’ll let her walk after she killed our people? After she took everything from me?"

  Another enforcer, younger, shifted uncomfortably. "If she truly is a celestial warrior, we might not be able to, "

  "You cowards!" Harrin roared. "She bleeds like the rest of us! And if you won’t stop her, then I will."

  The captain raised a hand, quieting the murmurs around them. "Enough. We will send word to our superiors in Senthos. If she is a threat, they will decide what is to be done. Until then, we will not tolerate disorder."

  Harrin’s teeth ground together, but before he could shout again, an enforcer grabbed his shoulder. "Go home. Mourn your wife. We will handle this."

  But Harrin knew better. They weren’t going to handle anything. If he wanted justice, he would have to take it himself.

  As he turned away, the crowd’s anger rippled outward. People were listening. People were agreeing. And whether the enforcers acted or not, the city would not forget this.

  The outsider would pay. One way or another.

  Inside the command post, Enforcer Edrin shifted uneasily as he listened to the angry voices outside. He had spoken earlier, cautioning restraint, but now, he remained silent, watching as his fellow officers exchanged tense glances.

  Captain Vaylen exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. "This is getting out of hand. We need to take control before this crowd turns into a riot."

  One of the older enforcers, Sergeant Darrik, grunted. "We should’ve cracked down the moment the battle ended. We let them stew too long. Now, every bastard with a grudge thinks they can dictate how Senthos handles its justice."

  Edrin swallowed, feeling the weight of the conversation shift. "With respect, sir, the people have a right to be angry. This was their home. And the fact that a demon infiltrated our city under our watch... That’s not just an embarrassment, it’s a disaster."

  Vaylen’s sharp gaze landed on him. "And what do you propose we do, Edrin? Let them tear each other apart? Declare martial law and start breaking skulls?"

  Edrin hesitated. He had seen what happened when Senthos enforced order too harshly. Too many times, good men and women had vanished in the name of "stability."

  "We need to be careful how we handle this," he said, choosing his words carefully. "If we turn this into a public crackdown, we risk the people seeing us as no better than the ones who brought destruction upon them. We already failed to keep the city safe. We need to prove we still deserve their trust."

  Darrik scoffed. "Senthos doesn’t need their trust. It needs control."

  Another officer, Lieutenant Marven, a wiry man with cold eyes and a body that bore the scars of a soldier reforged by technology, leaned forward. His left arm and right leg, crude but functional replacements of Senthos engineering, clanked softly as he shifted. A jagged, metal-plated ocular implant glowed dimly where his right eye once was, scanning the room with an unsettling flicker, a trait that never failed to put some of his fellow soldiers on edge. Whispers circulated among the ranks that he had lost his limbs a decade ago during a demon incursion, defending one of Senthos' high-ranking city leaders. In return, the state had paid for his new parts, a gift, or perhaps a leash.

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  "Edrin isn’t wrong, but he’s naive if he thinks we can calm this with words alone," Marven said, his mechanical fingers tapping against the hilt of a concealed blade built into his forearm. "We need to root out dissent. Start identifying who is riling up the people and make examples of them before this turns into full-scale rebellion."

  Vaylen exhaled slowly, his gaze flickering between his officers. "If this situation spreads beyond our hold here, Senthos will see it as our failure. And you all know what happens when Senthos loses patience."

  The room fell silent at that. Everyone knew the truth. If they were deemed ineffective, reinforcements would be sent. And Senthos' reinforcements never arrived to talk. They arrived to replace.

  Edrin’s stomach twisted. "Then we need to act smart. Let’s send word to higher command, but we should also start gathering intelligence on this 'outsider' and those stirring unrest. Figure out who’s truly dangerous before we start swinging the hammer."

  Darrik smirked. "And if we find out this outsider really is a problem?"

  Vaylen’s voice was ice. "Then we make damn sure she doesn’t walk out of this city alive."

  Rein sat apart from the others, his back pressed against the wall, fingers curled tightly around his pendant. The room was quiet save for the occasional shifting of supplies and soft murmurs, but his thoughts were far louder.

  He hadn’t forgotten the moment during the battle, the surge of power, the heat radiating from the jewel as it responded to something deep inside him. This wasn’t the first time it had happened, but this time, he had been conscious. He had tapped into it deliberately.

  His thumb traced the smooth surface of the stone embedded in the metal casing, a relic of something older than himself. What are you? he thought, staring into its dull glow. And why do I feel like I’ve only scratched the surface?

  "Rein?"

  He glanced up. Shilley, still pale but sitting upright, was watching him. "Are you okay?"

  He hesitated, then exhaled. "I don’t know. Something happened when I fought the demon. The pendant, it... responded to me. Or maybe I responded to it." He clenched his fist. "I don’t understand it, but I need to. Before it controls me instead."

  Shilley frowned but nodded. "We’ll figure it out. Together."

  Rein didn’t reply, but he gave a short nod in return, slipping the pendant beneath his shirt. For now, the answers would have to wait.

  The door creaked open, and every hand went to a weapon. But instead of an enemy, a familiar shadow stepped inside. Xetran.

  Luxana’s eyes narrowed, her stance rigid. "You’ve got some nerve showing up here."

  Rein’s expression was unreadable, but the exhaustion in his voice did nothing to dull the steel behind it. "You abandoned us."

  Xetran smirked, his usual nonchalance in place as he shut the door behind him. "And yet, you’re still breathing. You’re welcome."

  Devin crossed his arms, barely hiding his frustration. "We fought for our lives back there. People died. And you just vanished."

  Xetran leaned against the wall, arms folded. "And yet, here you are. Alive, whole, well, mostly."

  Shilley, though still weak, managed to lift her head and glare at him. "You could have helped. We were on the brink. And you left."

  Xetran sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I told you before, I’m not a frontline fighter. While I," he smirked, "appreciate your heroics, I prefer to fight with this." He tapped his temple. "But I did come back to save you, didn’t I?"

  Rein exhaled sharply. "What matters?" He took a step forward. "We trusted you to have our backs. You keep showing up when it suits you, but when we actually need you, "

  Xetran’s smirk faded slightly, his eyes flickering with something unreadable. "You think you needed me? You handled yourselves just fine. The problem isn’t me, it’s that you still expect me to play by your rules. I never agreed to that."

  Luxana’s fists clenched at her sides. "You walk a fine line, Xetran. If you truly want to be part of this, then act like it. If not, don’t waste our time."

  Xetran studied her for a moment before pushing off the wall. "You’ll need me again soon. Whether you like it or not."

  He turned his attention to Shilley and, with an exaggerated flourish, produced a small cluster of flowers from seemingly nowhere. "Look, I even brought you flowers to get well," he said with a smirk, holding them out.

  Shilley’s glare was sharp enough to cut through steel, her eyes practically throwing daggers. "I’d rather be sick."

  Xetran chuckled, tucking the flowers into her lap anyway. "You wound me, truly."

  Silence settled over the room. No one had the energy to keep arguing, and they all knew one thing: Xetran wasn’t leaving. Not yet. Whether that was a good thing or not remained to be seen.

  Devin finally broke the silence, shifting where he stood, his gaze moving between each of them before settling on Rein. "I’ve never met a group quite like you," he admitted, his voice quieter than usual. "Out there, you acted the way I always imagined heroes would when I was a kid. It’s funny, really... I wanted to become one myself. But I never quite figured out how to go about it when the real world can be so dark, and I’m just... so small."

  His fingers curled slightly, as if trying to grasp something intangible. "But you... even when that monster appeared, you stood against it. Not just because you had to, but because you chose to. So tell me, who are you really? And why did you come to this city?"

  Rein was the first to respond, his voice even but weighted. "We came because someone needed to stop that demon. And no one else was going to." He met Devin’s gaze, not flinching. "We don’t have a banner or a kingdom backing us. We’re not knights in shining armor. We fight because if we don’t, people like that thing you saw will win. That’s it. No prophecy. No grand destiny. Just survival, and doing what we can before the world swallows us whole."

  Luxana, standing rigid, added her own thoughts. "I was trained to fight for something greater. I thought that meant order. I thought it meant protecting people. But today…" She exhaled slowly, her expression darkening. "Today I saw the people I wanted to protect look at me like I was a monster." She turned toward Devin, her voice firm. "So who are we? We’re the ones standing between worse monsters and the rest of the world. That’s all I know."

  Shilley, still recovering but focused, spoke up next. "I was alone for a long time. I lost my family. And then I met them." Her eyes softened as she looked toward the others. "We fight because we have to, but we stay together because we choose to. That’s all I can tell you, Devin. We don’t have all the answers. But if you come with us, you won’t be alone."

  Xetran, smirking, leaned back against the wall. "So serious, kid. You think every warrior has a noble cause? Some of us just enjoy the game." He shrugged. "But them? They’re different. They’re actually trying to fix things in their own, messy way. Might get themselves killed for it. Or they might actually change something. Either way, it’s entertaining to watch."

  Devin studied Xetran for a long moment before speaking, his voice quieter but cutting. "You say you're just here for the game. But doesn’t that mean you’re nothing more than a spectator? Watching others fight for something real while you sit on the sidelines, doesn't that make you just as much a pawn as the rest of us?"

  For once, Xetran didn’t reply immediately. His smirk faded just a little, his eyes narrowing as if considering something he hadn’t before. The usual quip or sarcastic retort didn’t come. Instead, he simply gave Devin a strange, unreadable look before pushing off the wall and turning away.

  Devin let the silence stretch for a moment before speaking again. "And where are you heading next?"

  Rein exchanged a glance with Luxana before answering. "We were following a corruption we uncovered, one we’re afraid could eventually threaten more than just a single city or village."

  Devin frowned, considering his words. "Corruption? Like what happened here?"

  Luxana nodded. "Something worse. What we fought today was only a fragment of a greater problem. The source of this corruption, whatever it is, manipulates people, festers in the darkest places. If left unchecked, it won’t just take one city. It could spread across entire regions."

  Devin folded his arms, mulling it over. "An entity, then? Something like the demon, but worse?"

  Shilley gave a tired nod. "We don’t know its full nature yet, but the signs are there. And the longer we wait, the stronger it becomes."

  Devin exhaled slowly, his gaze drifting to the city outside the window. He had spent his whole life here. His friends, the people he knew, they were all here. If he left, he might never see them again. But at the same time, this was the first real opportunity he had ever had to fight for something greater than himself. And what was his life, anyway, if not a series of empty days filled with survival and regret? If he could give it up to help others, to become something useful, then maybe that would be the most beautiful way to live. To be a tool in something greater than himself, perhaps that was the only true purpose worth having.

  Shilley was the first to respond, a small but genuine smile crossing her face. "I’d be happy if you came with us, Devin. You belong with people who care, and we could use someone like you."

  Rein, however, regarded him carefully. "Think carefully about what you're asking. Where we’re going, there’s no glory, no parades waiting at the end. Just more danger, more fighting, and no certainty of survival. Are you sure this is what you want?"

  Devin met his gaze steadily. "I am."

  Luxana, arms crossed, gave him a measured look. "Then welcome to the fight. Just don’t expect it to be easy."

  The conversation naturally shifted toward what came next. Shilley, hopeful, suggested they stay and try to rally the city against Senthos, citing the growing unrest and the people's desperation for change. "If we can unite them, we might have a chance to overthrow the enforcers before they tighten their grip again. We can't just leave them like this."

  Luxana, still stiff from the battle, shook her head. "We’re barely standing as it is. Do you really think we have the strength to lead a rebellion? We won’t just be fighting Senthos, we'd be making ourselves targets for every power that wants control over this city."

  Devin looked between them, hesitant. "I don’t disagree that Senthos needs to be stopped, but what can we really do? I grew up here. People are angry, yes, but fear still rules them. If we push too hard, we might get them killed."

  Rein, listening to both sides, finally spoke. "We don’t have the numbers or strength to fight this head-on. But if we work from the shadows, start gathering allies within the old city guard, we might be able to plant the seeds of resistance. Devin, you have connections here. If you can find people willing to fight, we can make this more than just another failed rebellion."

  The group exchanged glances, reluctant but unwilling to dismiss the idea entirely. Finally, Luxana exhaled and gave a slight nod. "Fine. But if it looks like we’re walking into another slaughter, we leave."

  That night, as the others rested, Luxana found sleep elusive. No matter how much she willed it, the images of people burning, their screams echoing, refused to leave her mind. Her own power had caused that. She had always thought of herself as a protector, someone who could wield divine strength to shield the weak. But this? This wasn’t protection.

  She turned onto her side, eyes staring blankly at the wall. How can I protect anyone like this? The thought lingered, heavier than she wanted to admit. I might be just as much of a monster as they are."