The ruins smoldered. The last sparks of Pride's shattering drifted like burning motes, ash falling with the silence of a battlefield bled dry.
Khael Corzedar stood in the center. His chest heaved, dragon scales receding in painful cracks, his fists trembling not with weakness, but with the storm inside him. Something had awakened, clawing in his veins, yet the cost pressed heavy against his ribs.
Around him, the survivors pulled themselves together.
Shigeo Motome knelt with one hand pressed into the fading lattice of lightning. His body shook from exhaustion, but his eyes still scanned the shadows. "The net's gone… no remnants linger. He's really gone." His voice was hoarse, half-relief, half-disbelief.
Saya just look at Shigeo….
Juno Arkai leaned against a shattered pillar. Blood filled his grin as he laughed anyway. "Hah… we did it. Damn it, we actually brought down a Sin." His legs wobbled, but he refused to fall.
