Above Ground.
Kaen stepped out into the broken plaza, the ground cracked and steaming beneath his feet. The sky was still stained with lingering firelight, clouds torn apart by whatever unholy clash had just unfolded. The scent of ash and ozone hung heavy in the air.
Bodies.
Charred and cleaved—the Oblivion Strides,
reduced to shattered limbs, melted metal, and silent, smoldering fragments.
Kaen's eyes swept the field. His breath caught.
"Damn…He didn't even use an ounce of his power… and this much carnage?"
A low, breathless laugh left him."At this point… when the hell am I even supposed to catch up to a monster like that?"
At the center of it all stood Kuro, unmoving. His body slack, left hand loosely hanging by his side, still humming with faint residual energy. His obsidian coat fluttered in the wind like torn shadow, violet sparks occasionally trailing from it—flickers of death restrained.
Across from him
General Xurnak. Rigid. Gaze locked on the boy. The expression of a man who'd just watched a god bleed the sky dry.
He took a slow step forward, voice heavy but even.
"We need to talk. I came here not for war… but to—"
Kuro didn't even glance at him.
Instead, his head tilted slightly—toward Kaen.
And then, Kaen heard the voice.
Directly in his mind.
"You look like shit, Kaen."
Kaen blinked, a half-choked laugh escaping him.
"I ain't dead, am I? …Guess your standards are slipping."
"Did they hurt you a lot?"
Kaen cracked his neck, eyeing his bloodied knuckles, the bruises on his neck where the seal had once been.
"They tried. Didn't get far."
Kuro exhaled—not quite relief, but something close.
And then he finally turned his head. Slowly. Deliberately.
His eyes—those emotionless, unfathomable voids—met Xurnak's.
"You were saying something about talking?"
The wind howled, and the scorched ground beneath Kuro's feet cracked ever so slightly—his presence enough to distort the very air.
General Xurnak held his ground, though a faint tremor ran through the rubble beneath his boots.
"I came to parley," he said firmly, his tone straining under the weight of caution. "This destruction… it doesn't have to continue. Whatever grudge you have with the Dominion—"
Kuro's voice cut through like a blade sliding from its sheath.
"Spare me."
It was calm. Cold. Each syllable precise, like the edge of a honed weapon.
"I didn't burn this place down because of a grudge."
He stepped forward once—just once—and yet the entire plaza seemed to lurch underfoot.
"I came to reclaim what was stolen."
Xurnak narrowed his eyes."You mean him?"
He glanced toward Kaen. "You destroyed a battalion—killed my best force—just for him?"
Kuro didn't blink. "No. I killed them because they stood in my way."
The general's fists clenched at his sides.
Kuro's gaze drifted, briefly, to the surrounding carnage—then back to Xurnak. That faint shimmer of violet lightning curled up his arm, like a serpent waiting to strike.
"You sent dogs to chain a storm," Kuro said, voice still low and unhurried. "And now you're surprised the leash snapped."
Kaen watched from a distance, still catching his breath—and grinning like an idiot.
"There it is.That tone. That arrogance. Gods, he really thinks he's untouchable—and I kind of get it now."
Xurnak took a single step forward.
"I propose a ceasefire. You've proven your power. Further conflict helps no one—"
But Kuro tilted his head slightly, the faintest edge of disdain ghosting across his expression.
"You don't get to bargain with me."
He turned his body fully to face the general now, hand still at his side.
"There is no ceasefire. No treaty. No forgiveness."
His voice lowered into something lethal.
"There's only one thing I want from the Dominion."
Xurnak didn't respond—he already knew.
And yet, he had to ask. "And that is?"
Kuro's eyes narrowed. Cold. Void of mercy.
"Extinction."
Kaen's boots crunched over bone and rubble.When Kuro muttered "Extinction," Kaen froze, blinked twice, then let out a low whistle.
"Extinction? Bro… I thought we were just roughing 'em up, not uninstalling their entire bloodline."
He looked around at the smoking crater and mangled debris."You don't need therapy, Kuro—you need a goddamn warning label."
He kept walking, arms crossed, trying to ignore the bruises and blood down his side. "Hey Kuro. You ever think about doing a little less murder art and a little more restraint? Y'know—for old time's sake?"
No answer. Just the violet shimmer coiling off Kuro's fingers.
Kaen stepped up beside him, threw an arm over his shoulder, and winced immediately. "Okay—not touching you, got it. Ow."
Xurnak's sharp stare sliced toward Kaen. One second of cold, calculated disdain. That was all.
"…What?" Kaen blinked. "You want to fight too? Because I just got unchained, buddy. I got, like, zero stamina and two cracked ribs. I'm a walking caution sign."
Kuro sighed audibly.
Xurnak, ignoring Kaen now, stepped forward. "Your power is… beyond any we've encountered. It would be a waste—for all parties—for further conflict to erupt."
Kuro said nothing.
"We know what you are," Xurnak pressed. "You're half-human… and half something far more. Your strength is undeniable. But Earth—your human side's home—sits low in the galactic hierarchy. It is ranked among the lesser Worlds. It will not survive long in open space."
Kaen blinked. "Did you just… call us lessers? Dude."
Xurnak raised his voice slightly, formal and cold now, trained in the art of diplomacy. "So I offer this. Let the Dominion of Gorr'Rath form an alliance with Earth. Military and resource exchange. Trade routes. Protection under our interstellar banners."
Kaen's jaw dropped. "You're kidding. You're actually trying to—?! You just had half your elites carved into abstract art and now you wanna negotiate?"
Kuro didn't react immediately.
After some time pondering.
He finally spoke.
"…Why?"
Xurnak nodded. "Because Earth is drawing attention. We've heard the transmissions. Alien fleets. Conflict. You've already begun attracting predators far worse than us. Alone, you will fall."
A long silence followed. Kuro's gaze stayed fixed somewhere beyond the plaza, lost in thought. The wind whistled through the scorched ruins.
Then finally:
"…Fine."
Kaen turned to him in disbelief. "Wait, what? That's it? You just—"
"I'll return to Earth first," Kuro cut him off, calm as ice. "But I will revisit this… alliance."
Xurnak dipped his head with the discipline of a military tactician. "Then let us formalize it."
With a flash of silver light, he summoned a scroll-like projection— etched in the language of the Titans. The Treaty of Stoneflame Accord, a pact that had not been used in centuries. At its seal, the sigil of the Titan Sovereign.
"The Sovereign-Primarch of Gorr'Rath," Xurnak intoned. "Will recognize this pact once your world signs. We expect your return."
Kuro nodded once, stepped forward, and raised a hand. A portal bloomed—dark, elegant, rippling with faint echoes of space and time folding in on itself.
Kaen stepped toward it, glanced over his shoulder, then stuck his tongue out at Xurnak. "Smell ya later, General Forehead."
Kuro walked in without a word. Kaen followed, still limping.
The portal collapsed behind them.
---
Back at kuro's personal realm
The portal cracked open with a hiss of dimensional flame, depositing Kuro and Kaen onto warm white sand under a violet-tinted sky. Great crystal-clear waves crashed against smooth obsidian boulders. Palms, bent in wind that never stopped blowing, lined the edge of the floating island like sentinels. The sun—three of them—hovered at different angles, casting surreal shadows across the golden surf.
Kaen landed face-first into the sand.
"God damn—could've landed us on solid rock but nah, gotta eat sand like a budget crab."
Kuro said nothing. His eyes scanned the domain calmly.
Kaen rolled onto his back, arms behind his head. "I'm just saying, if you're gonna have a personal void-realm, you could at least include a minibar."
Kuro chuckled. "Shut up."
Suddenly—
BOOM.
The entire beach quaked. The ocean split briefly from the impact. Seagulls formed from light and wind scattered across the sky.
They both turned.
There—at the edge of the domain where land met water—stood
Klaus
Shirtless, chest rising with each breath, muscles sculpted and veined like war statues—his body soaked in salt and sweat. A low bun held back his windswept hair, strands loose and clinging to his face like streaks of storm. It wasn't clean—it was the kind of messy knot you make mid-battle, just tight enough to keep chaos out of your eyes. Each of his movements was clean, deliberate, and devastating.
His bare feet dug into the sand as he moved, striking invisible enemies with perfect timing.
CRACK. A punch that split the air.
BOOM. A heel slam that created a trench in the wet beach.
He was a storm given flesh.
Then—he paused. His eyes opened.
He saw them.
And vanished.
Kaen blinked. "Wh—where the fu—?"
The sea breeze whispered.
"Don't you get it now, Klaus?" Kuro chuckled, arms outstretched as the realm pulsed with his will."This isn't just my realm—it's my imagination. You're basically fighting me inside my own daydream."
Then—
"Void Style."
The words echoed like thunder across the shore.
"Martial Form One: Phantom Draw."
Klaus reappeared in a blur, dragging his hand through the air—wind condensed like a blade. He struck.
Kuro blocked it with his bare palm. The invisible edge carved through the ocean behind him, splitting waves apart.
Klaus was already gone.
"Form Two: Rift Talon."
He dropped from the sky, heel-first, spinning. A crescent shockwave ripped the air.
Kuro slid sideways, sand detonating around him—
"Form One." The blade returned, slashing in reverse across Kuro's chest.
"Form Three: Echo Step."
An afterimage blinked through Kuro's vision—Klaus behind him, wind-laced fingers stabbing for the ribs.
Kuro twisted—barely deflecting—
"Form Four: Demon Coil."
Klaus spiraled mid-movement, turning deflection into momentum. Wind trailed like serpents—coiling—compressing—
An elbow smashed into Kuro's ribs, sending him skidding across the water.
But Klaus didn't stop.
"Form Three." He vanished again.
Kuro spun to react—
Too late.
A strike dug into his spine.
"Form One." Another slash, horizontal, slicing the mist between them.
"Form Four." Klaus flipped low, wind-laced knee smashing upward.
Kuro blocked—but the sheer pressure bent the tide behind him.
"He's chaining them…" Kuro thought, a grin cracking through bloodied lips.
Klaus didn't chant now. He moved. The names became instinct.
A flicker of motion.
Kuro was drowning in technique—wind, form, silence, fury.
THWACK.
Kuro skidded a few steps on the wet sand, coughing once.
Then he laughed. "Finally…"
---
Nearby…
Kaen sat in a reclining beach chair that definitely wasn't there before, feet up, sipping on a cold beer that also definitely wasn't there before.
"Man," he said, watching the clash ripple through ocean and sky, "you can keep your galactic wars and Alien politics… This? This is peak entertainment."
He raised the bottle and toasted no one in particular.
"To Earth's finest psychos."