The last god died screaming.
His voice—once the roar that birthed suns and baptized empires in fire—fractured into something pitiful. Something mortal. Aetherion's light dimmed, and with it, the last embers of divine order. The heavens rippled in silent horror as his golden blood pooled across obsidian stone, thick and luminous, like liquified constellations.
The blade still glowed in Kazuki Arin's hand.
Not from heat, but memory.
He didn't look away. Not when the god's chest caved in with a final shudder. Not when the sigils carved into the sky above—ancient glyphs that once dictated fate—flickered and died.
It was done. The flame was extinguished.
And Kazuki had killed it.
The wind howled across the mountaintop altar. Far below, the empire of Lirael slept, unaware that its protector, its last celestial ward, had just been felled by a seventeen-year-old exile with frost in his eyes and no soul left to lose.
Rain kissed his skin, cold and sharp. The god's blood sizzled when it hit the stone, burning holes in reality itself. Kazuki stood amidst it all, drenched and still, a statue of guilt.
Behind him, something moved.
"Well. That escalated," came a voice—wry, feminine, too amused for the circumstances. "You always did have a flair for theatrics, Kazuki."
He didn't turn around. "I thought I told you not to follow me."
"I didn't." The girl—no, the curse—stepped into the light. "You brought me with you. Like always."
She wore her usual smirk: sharp enough to cut glass. Rin's coat whipped behind her like wings made from smoke. Her eyes gleamed violet under the storm, twin portals to a night that never ended.
"Congratulations," she said, circling the god's corpse with casual grace. "You've officially pissed off the cosmos."
Kazuki finally looked at her. "He begged me."
"Of course he did. Gods always beg at the end. Mortals just lie better."
There were nights Kazuki dreamed of silence.
Not peace, not forgiveness—he knew better than to ask for that—but simple, unbroken quiet. No voices in his head. No Rin whispering from the corner of his vision. No bones screaming beneath the weight of a cursed blade. Just… silence.
But the gods never gave him that.Only weapons. Only war.
"You know what this means, don't you?" Rin asked, crouching beside the corpse like a cat studying a broken toy. "The Council of Eclipse will come. The Thrones will march. And the cities you've tried so hard to forget?" She tapped her temple. "They'll remember you real fast."
Kazuki sheathed the Hollowblade. Slowly. Carefully. The sigils etched along its edge shimmered as they tasted blood—godblood, no less—and settled into stillness.
"I don't care," he said.
Rin smiled. "Liar."
Ten Hours Earlier
The capital still stood.
Lirael, jewel of the eastern sky. The city of whispering bells and spine-bound secrets. Her spires pierced the clouds like spears, proud and cruel. Her streets ran red with memory, even in daylight.
Kazuki walked them like a ghost.
He moved through alleys and arcades without drawing notice, cloak pulled tight around his ruined frame. Every step brought him closer to the cathedral. Every heartbeat echoed like a countdown.
He remembered this place.
The smell of sakura blossoms from the priest gardens. The iron tang of spilled prayers. The way Yuna's laughter once rang from the high balconies, golden and impossible.
But that was before the Trial of Flame.Before the gods branded him traitor.Before Ayame was taken.
He clenched his fists.
The Hollowblade pulsed beneath his coat.
He'd told himself this wasn't revenge. That he didn't want justice, only balance. But in his bones, he knew the truth. He wasn't here to fix anything. He was here to break it all.
Because if the gods could bleed…Then maybe the world could start over.
"You look like hell," Rin said when she reappeared beside him, unseen by all others.
Kazuki kept walking.
"Not even gonna insult me?" she asked, mock-offended. "Come on, I wore my nicest boots for this divine assassination."
"You're not real."
"I'm you, genius. Just the part you buried too deep to rot properly."
He stopped.
The spires of the cathedral loomed above. Aetherion's temple. The last sanctuary of the Lightborn. His final target.
Rin tilted her head. "You could still walk away, you know. Live a quiet life. Find a little farmhouse. Get a cat."
Kazuki stared up at the banners fluttering above the gates. The symbol of flame. Of purity. Of a lie.
"I don't want quiet," he said.
"What do you want?"
He looked at his reflection in the puddle beneath his feet. A stranger looked back.
"An ending."
Now
The god's body twitched once, then stilled.
All around them, the sky was unraveling. The air shimmered with divine feedback—light peeling off the bones of reality. Storms crackled overhead. Somewhere in the distance, a cathedral bell shattered mid-ring.
Kazuki dropped to his knees.
Not out of grief. Not even exhaustion. But because his legs couldn't carry the weight anymore. The Hollowblade had taken more than his strength. It had carved pieces from his soul, one swing at a time.
Rin crouched beside him.
"You should be proud," she said softly. "You did it. You broke the cycle."
"No," he whispered. "I just… started another one."
Thunder boomed.
Rin didn't argue. She just watched him with something that almost looked like pity. Almost.
"What now?" he asked, voice hoarse.
"Now," she said, "we run. Until the world figures out what you've done. Until the Council sends the Paleborn. Until they wake the thing buried beneath the Temple of Ash."
Kazuki blinked. "The Paleborn?"
"Oh, right," Rin said with a grin. "You haven't met them yet. You'll love it. They're like death, but prettier."
As dawn broke, the first light touched Aetherion's body.
And in that light, something stirred.A spark. A memory.A whisper that wasn't quite gone.
Kazuki didn't notice.But Rin did.
And her smile faltered.
Just for a moment.
TO BE CONTINUED…