The end begins with blood." – Ryden
Midnight.Rain crashed down on the iron rooftop of Nero Valance's fortress—the throne of the Bloodchain empire. The building was lit like a cathedral of violence, walls pulsing red with neon veins, guarded by men who had killed legends and smiled doing it.
But they weren't ready for the ghost.
Ryden stood at the gates, chains wrapped tight around his fists, his coat flaring behind him like a storm. His breath steamed. His eyes burned.
He didn't sneak in.
He walked.
THE FINAL GAUNTLET
The first wave of guards charged—armored brutes wielding stun-batons and machetes. Ryden moved like a phantom.
Clang—CLASH—CRACK.
A baton met his chain. Sparks. A leg sweep took out the first. The second rushed—Ryden countered, driving a steel-wrapped fist into the man's throat. Blood sprayed. Bones shattered.
They came in packs. He dropped them in pieces.
Fist. Chain. Elbow. Knee.
By the time he reached the main hall, twenty lay broken behind him. But Ryden didn't slow. His wounds bled. His ribs screamed. But his will?
Unshakable.
INSIDE THE THRONE
The doors creaked open, revealing a throne made of rusted weapons. Behind it, the monster in silk.
Nero Valance.
Tall. Cold. Silver-haired. One cybernetic eye. His voice came like oil over ice.
"Well. If it isn't the ghost."
Ryden stepped forward, chains dripping. "I came to burn the throne."
Nero stood, adjusting his cufflinks. "You were always trouble. Even when you were mine."
"I was never yours," Ryden growled.
"Oh?" Nero smiled, pressing a button.
BZZZZZZT.
The floor beneath Ryden pulsed. His body seized. Electricity surged from the implanted tracker in his spine. He dropped to one knee.
"Still wearing my leash," Nero said smugly.
Ryden gritted his teeth. "I broke the chain once…"
He slammed his fist to the ground.
BZZZZT—FZZZZK!
The chip sparked—then fried.
"…and I'll break it again."
FINAL BATTLE: RYDEN VS NERO
Nero shed his coat—revealing a tight combat suit laced with tech and cybernetic enhancements. Twin blades hummed to life on his arms.
They clashed.
Sparks. Blood. Thunder.
Nero moved with machine precision. But Ryden fought with something deeper. Every strike was fueled by memory—of chains, betrayal, and vengeance.
He dodged a blade, wrapped his chain around Nero's arm, and yanked hard—dislocating it.
Nero screamed.
But he retaliated with a spinning backfist that sent Ryden crashing into the wall.
Glass shattered.
Ryden stood slowly, face bloodied. He tore off his coat.
Round two.
He struck like a storm—left hook, elbow, chain whip. Nero blocked most—until Ryden feinted low and headbutted the cybernetic eye.
Sparks exploded.
Nero staggered. "You think this will change anything?! I built the Bloodchain! Without me, you're NOTHING!"
Ryden grabbed the chain, twirled it, and whispered:
"Then I'll be nothing. But free."
THWACK.
He slammed the chain across Nero's face—once. Twice. Then wrapped it around his throat.
Pulled.
Nero gurgled, claws flailing.
"Say my name," Ryden said coldly.
"R-Ryden…" Nero gasped.
"Louder."
"RYDEN!"
SNAP.
Silence.
Nero dropped. The chain slithered from his neck like a serpent.
EPILOGUE
Weeks later, the Bloodchain empire collapsed. Fighters once enslaved walked free. The pits closed. The throne was gone.
Ryden stood on a cliff overlooking the burning compound. Wind howled. Rain washed the blood from his hands.
Vin Mallix approached behind him.
"What now?" he asked.
Ryden stared into the storm."I walk."
"Where?"
Ryden didn't look back. "Where the chain doesn't reach."
He dropped the broken cuffs onto the dirt.
Clink.
And walked into the fog.
THE END
BLOODCHAIN: Ryden's Wrath is over. But legends never sleep.