The battlefield had gone eerily silent.
Ren's breathing rasped in his throat, sweat sliding down his jaw, Thorn trembling in his grip. Across from him stood the figure—his perfect, unbroken self, gleaming like an untouchable truth. The frozen fragments cowered in the shadows, whispering as if even they feared the clash about to unfold.
For the first time, Ren felt it—not fear of dying, not even fear of losing—but fear of being erased.
The savior's shadow pointed his flawless Thorn at him, eyes calm yet merciless.
"You're nothing more than a mistake stretched too far," he said. "And mistakes… don't deserve to endure."
Ren spat blood to the side and forced a crooked grin. "Tch. Then I'll be the loudest damn mistake this world has ever seen."
The girl with silver hair staggered closer, her flames guttering but still alive. She raised her hand toward Ren, voice trembling. "Ren… don't fight him the way you fight the others. He's not like them. He—"
