Moscow – Underground Bastion "Vostok-9"
Deep beneath the frozen heart of Russia, inside a bunker untouched by sunlight for nearly five decades, the air smelled of oil, gunmetal, and forgotten blood.
A solitary figure stood within a chamber surrounded by cryo-stasis pods. Tubes hissed. Lights flickered. Monitors blinked warnings in a dozen dead languages.
"Commence revival," the technician whispered, hand trembling as he inserted the authorization crystal.
The pod at the center lit up. A pulse echoed like a thunderclap across the room.
Seconds passed.
Then the hatch opened with a sharp hiss.
The being within stepped out—naked, pale as snow, muscles rippling with latent power. Hair the color of dried blood, eyes burning with crimson fire.
He blinked once.
"Status," he said in Russian, his voice like cracking bones wrapped in velvet.
"You've been asleep for 73 years," the technician said. "The world has changed. But your command is needed again. The Phoenix has returned."
"Phoenix?" he repeated with a smirk. "So, Ashoka's bastard finally grew a spine."
He grabbed the crimson robe laid before him and wrapped it around his massive frame. A blade materialized in his hand—etched in frost and black steel.
He turned toward the exit.
"Inform Volkov," he said. "The Crimson Tsar walks again."
Back in the Valley of Screams – Morning
Arjun woke before the sun, unable to sleep.
He stood atop the old fortress's highest tower, watching as the first light stretched across the battlefield.
The Sky Battalion had been stationed along the high cliffs, silent sentinels glowing faintly in the dark. Their wings folded, their armor immaculate, they looked more like statues than soldiers.
Liu arrived moments later, dressed in battle robes trimmed with gold and obsidian. Her dark hair tied up, two daggers resting at her waist.
"You don't sleep much," she said.
"I haven't slept well since this started," he replied.
She stood beside him, gazing out.
"The world's shifting. Magic is reawakening. Old powers are returning."
"And we're caught in the middle."
"No," she said firmly. "We're leading it."
There was a quiet fire in her voice—a belief not in fate, but in choice.
Fort Silan – Enemy Outpost, Three Days' March
The fort was a scar on the mountain's spine.
Massive steel walls, reinforced by anti-aerial defenses and arcane suppression fields. Once a proud fortress of the old alliance, now twisted under Volkov's control.
Inside, General Akuma—Volkov's dragon of the East—reviewed deployment maps.
"Our scouts report movement in the Screaming Valley," said his adjutant. "The phoenix forces number just under 2,000. But they're supported by... something else."
Akuma narrowed his eyes.
"Sky Battalion?"
"Yes, sir."
He stood, pulling on his black gauntlets. His armor hissed as it sealed around his body.
"Then this is no longer a skirmish," he growled. "Prepare the fire-mages. Bring out the thunder engines. Alert the bioforged."
"And the civilians?"
Akuma looked at the map coldly. "We will remind them what loyalty costs."
March Begins – On the Road to Silan
The Phoenix Army moved in near silence.
Tharaka's modified drones hovered above them, cloaked in light-refracting shields. Kavi and Lady Miren rode beside Arjun on armored horses—gifts from the nomadic tribes who had sworn loyalty after the Valley's liberation.
And above them, streaks of blue fire traced the sky.
The Sky Battalion.
Liu led them like a queen of storms, speaking in ancient tongues that bent clouds and sharpened winds. She no longer looked like a fugitive.
She looked like destiny.
"Arjun," Kavi said, trotting up beside him. "Volkov will not sit idle. And we've drawn out the Tsar."
Arjun's knuckles tightened around his reins. "Then we stop him before he gathers strength."
"You'll have to face him. Man to man."
Arjun nodded slowly.
"He was the one who led the final assault on our capital during the Collapse," he murmured. "I saw his face. Just once."
"And?"
"He smiled as he burned it."
Midnight – Camp Before Silan
Tents fluttered in the wind. Campfires crackled. The army was silent but prepared.
Arjun stood in his command tent, flanked by Liu, Kavi, and Tharaka. Lady Miren was outside drilling the shieldmaidens.
Liu laid out a crystal map over the table, and when activated, it projected a glowing model of the battlefield.
"Fort Silan's defense fields weaken every seven hours," Tharaka explained. "If we hit them exactly after their mana core switches circuits, we'll have a five-minute gap."
"I'll lead the assault," Liu said without hesitation.
Arjun looked at her. "No. You're too important—"
"I'm not here to be kept safe," she snapped. "I was trained for this. Born for this."
Their eyes met.
And he understood.
There was fire in her heart, yes—but also grief. She needed to fight. To take back what was stolen.
"Then we go together," he said softly.
"Deal," she said, the corner of her mouth curving upward.
Assault on Fort Silan – Dawn
The world exploded into motion.
Sky Battalion dropped from the clouds like thunderbolts, shattering towers in a cascade of divine fire. The Phoenix soldiers surged through the valley, led by Kavi and the frontline riders.
Tharaka's drones jammed enemy comms and dropped emp charges to disable the auto-turrets.
Arjun and Liu fought back to back—him wielding a relic blade forged from the ruins of the First Flame, her moving like a blur of silver and crimson.
Enemy mages collapsed under psychic pressure. Arrows burned in midair. Walls crumbled.
But it wasn't easy.
The Crimson Tsar had left traps.
Bioforged beasts—golems of bone, steel, and demonic flame—burst from the lower halls.
One of them struck Arjun with a massive claw, throwing him into a wall. He rolled to his feet, bleeding, vision spinning.
Liu screamed his name—but she couldn't reach him.
The beast lunged again.
And then a Sky Battalion warrior intercepted it mid-air, wings flaring, sword blazing with solar fire.
Arjun stood again, gripping his blade with both hands.
"We end this now," he whispered.
Together, they fought like a storm.
By the time the sun fully rose, the fortress was theirs.
Silan, Liberated – Hours Later
Civilians cheered as the last enemy banner burned.
The Phoenix Standard flew from the top of the fortress.
Arjun sat in the command hall, exhausted, armor cracked, blood on his face.
Liu walked in, her eyes tired but shining.
"You did it," she said.
"No," he replied. "We did."
He reached out and took her hand.
The warmth between them was different now.
Earned.
Not in passion.
But in battle. In fire.
In choice.
Bannerless Alliance – Sky Spire Throne Room
Volkov stared at the war map as glowing red sectors blinked out one by one.
"They've taken Silan," his aide confirmed.
Volkov clenched his jaw. "Send the Tsar. No more games. If they want a war—"
He slammed his fist on the table.
"Then let's give them a massacre."