The sky was torn open.
Thunder roared across the heavens, blood-red clouds churning like the wrath of immortals. From the divine rift above poured spears of lightning and flames that did not belong to the mortal realm. Below, the empire array blazed, an ocean of golden light stretching across mountains and rivers, holding the line between humanity and the gods.
Drums pounded from the walls of the capital, their beat like the dying heart of the world. Soldiers roared, blades raised toward the storm. The air itself seemed to scream.
At the center of it all stood Li Yuan and Rui.
Their armor was cracked, their robes torn and bloodied, but they moved as one—two shadows dancing through chaos. Rui's blade traced silver arcs of fire through the air, each strike searing divine flesh. Li Yuan's halberd crushed thunderbolts, his roar splitting the battlefield. To mortal eyes, they looked less like men and more like twin stars, burning together against the infinite dark.
But Rui's gaze kept drifting upward.
The rift widened with every heartbeat. Beyond it, the shadow of a colossal spear took shape—its shaft carved from divine bone, its tip brighter than suns. A single strike would shatter the array, reduce the empire to ash.
"Rui!" Li Yuan shouted as another wave of gods descended. He swung his halberd in a wide arc, crushing three heavenly generals in one blow. Blood sprayed, but his eyes never left Rui's face. "Stay with me. Don't—don't you dare go near it!"
Rui smiled faintly, lips pale, eyes shimmering with something softer than fear. "Yuan… you already know."
Before Li Yuan could answer, a cry tore across the battlefield. General Xie's voice, raw with rage.
"Zhang! You traitor!"
Li Yuan whirled. On the eastern flank, the array's glow dimmed, its sacred runes crumbling like sand. And there, standing above the broken formation, was Zhang, robes drenched in divine light. He had severed the seal, gifting the gods their opening.
"No…" Li Yuan's chest constricted, a fury like wildfire surging in his veins.
Lightning screamed down. Tens of thousands of soldiers were incinerated in an instant, their bodies turning to ash before their screams even left their throats. The ground split, magma boiling up from beneath.
The empire was falling apart.
And then—the omen.
Behind Rui, flames erupted. They rose higher than mountains, forming the wings of a phoenix. The firebird spread its wings wide, illuminating the battlefield in golden light. The gods, who moments ago roared with arrogance, faltered. Fear crossed their faces.
"The vessel…" one god whispered, voice trembling.
Rui looked down at his hands. They were glowing, veins burning with light, his skin almost transparent. He understood. His bloodline had been chosen long before his birth. He was the key, the sacrifice, the only one who could seal the rift.
Li Yuan saw it too. "No." His voice cracked like breaking steel. He seized Rui's arm, fingers digging into flesh as if he could anchor him to the world. "Don't you dare. Don't leave me, Rui. We'll find another way."
Rui lifted his free hand and cupped Li Yuan's face. His touch was warm despite the fire consuming him. His thumb traced over the emperor's cheek, smearing blood and tears together.
"There is no other way." His voice was soft, tender as falling snow. "Yuan… even if my body turns to dust, my heart is yours. Always."
Li Yuan shook his head violently, tears streaming, his halberd slipping from his grip. "No! Rui, stay with me! I'll kill every god, I'll burn heaven itself if I must, just—just don't go!"
But Rui only smiled, a curve of lips filled with love and sorrow. He leaned in, pressing his forehead against Li Yuan's for one fleeting heartbeat. Then he pulled away.
And walked into the storm.
The divine spear descended, tearing the sky apart. Rui stepped forward, golden fire devouring his body. His scream ripped through the battlefield—not of pain, but of sheer force as he poured every ounce of his life into the array. The runes across the land ignited, blazing like suns, drawing strength from his sacrifice.
"RUI!!!" Li Yuan's roar shook the heavens. He lunged forward, but General Xie seized his arm, holding him back with tears streaming down his scarred face.
The world drowned in light.
Gods shrieked as the array surged, collapsing the rift. The divine spear shattered into fragments, scattering across the stars. One by one, the gods were dragged screaming back into their realm, their power torn apart by Rui's flames.
When the light faded, silence fell.
The battlefield was strewn with corpses, blood soaking the soil. The array was cracked, smoking, but it held. The empire had survived.
But Rui was gone.
Where he had stood, only ash drifted on the wind, glowing faintly like fireflies. In the center of it lay a single fragment of jade—half of the pendant Rui always carried close to his chest.
Li Yuan fell to his knees. He picked up the jade with trembling hands, clutching it to his chest. His armor clattered as his body shook with sobs, raw and broken.
Soldiers began to cheer. "Victory! The empire endures!" Their cries rose like thunder.
But Li Yuan heard nothing.
His world had ended.
His eyes stared at the empty space where Rui had stood, vision blurred by tears. His lips moved, barely a whisper, but the words carried across the silent air between heaven and earth.
"I will bring you back, Rui. Even if I must tear heaven apart."
The fragment of jade cut into his palm, drawing blood. He welcomed the pain. For it was the only thing reminding him he was still alive.
The emperor who had conquered kingdoms, the man who feared nothing—now knelt in the ruins of victory, holding to ash and memory, his heart forever shattered.
And the gods, though defeated, had left a wound that no array could heal.