The three Colossals crawled, dragging themselves closer despite shattered limbs and bleeding wounds.
Every meter closed made the earth tremble harder, like the heartbeat of something buried.
The glaive‑man roared and hurled another shockwave.
The woman in black armor fired until her rifle barrel glowed white-hot.
The old man forced another SWAP, blood running from his nose, his knees buckling from the effort.
Nothing stopped them.
Nothing even slowed them.
Then they touched.
The left Colossal's ruined arm clamped onto the center's shoulder.
The right one's massive hand slammed against it's opposite side.
...
For a heartbeat, they seemed to simply hold there, three titans huddled in an embrace.
Cid squinted through the steam and smoke.
"They're not fusing?" he murmured.
"No," Yuri said, voice shaking. "Look."
Cracks began to spread along the Colossals' hides.
Thin glowing fissures crawling across their bodies.
Not red.
Not orange.
A blinding, white light that hurt to look at.
The air trembled.
A deep, low hum began, vibrating through the ground and through their bones, like a massive engine waking up.
Then another sound joined it, a high keening wail, sharp enough to make Elias scream and cover his ears.
BOOM-CRACK-CRACK-BOOM
The first shockwave ripped through the mud, knocking soldiers flat and hurling debris like shrapnel.
The glaive‑man stumbled, swearing. "What the hell are they doing?!"
The old man's eyes went wide.
"No... no, no, no..."
All three Colossals began to bulge.
Their bodies strained outward like overinflated baloons.
Black ichor hissed into vapor.
The hum built into a scream.
"They're... they're gonna blow!" Elias shouted.
"EVERYONE GET BACK!" the glaive-man roared.
The woman leapt backward, dragging her bleeding arm, eyes wide in disbelief.
"We can't contain that! We can't..."
Cid clutched his head. "At this rate, the whole Bolt Kingdom will be blown to pieces."
And then a voice cut through the chaos.
Calm. Heavy. Final.
"Enough."
Cid turned through the smoke and flashing light to see the King stride forward.
Not armored. Not armed.Only his robes.
His eyes burned with something deeper than resolve, something like grief.
"Your Majesty!" the old man gasped, staggering on one knee. "Stay back!"
But the King kept walking, each step planting itself.
Silver light began to spill from his hands.
Cid felt the weight of it before the Zone even activated, a presence like the world itself bending to his will.
The King planted his foot and slammed both palms outward.
"Power Zone: CHANGE MATTER."
A wave of golden silver light exploded from him, expanding outward until it touched the Colossals.
The very air screamed as the Zone spread, not a circle but a growing field.
The cracks in the Colossals' bodies widened...
But instead of white light, the ichor became crystal.
The bulging flesh became cold black stone.
The blinding light froze mid-eruption, hardened into jagged shards of inert matter.
For an instant, the battlefield went silent, awed, disbelieving. As three living Colossals began to petrify from the inside out, their forms locking in place, their detonating cores transmuted into something harmless.
Cid's eyes widened. "He's... he's rewriting them!"
But then the King's knees buckled.
Blood poured from his nose.
Veins along his arms blackened and split as the Power Zone ate through his body.
He didn't stop.
"Hold... hold, damn you!" the King snarled, voice cracking, as more and more of his life poured into the Zone.
Each Colossal's roar turned to a grinding moan as the petrification crawled through them.
The woman in black armor whispered, trembling, "He's... he's killing himself..."
The glaive‑man took a half-step forward. "Your Majesty, stop! You'll..."
"HOLD."
The word struck like hammer.
The Zone flared one final time, brighter than a rising sun.
Cid felt the heat against his face, the sheer force of it knocking him back a step.
The old man closed his eyes as if expecting something bad to happen, whispering, "Bro.. Brother."
The Colossals' bodies cracked, crumbled, their cores turned entirely to dull, inert stone.
The hum stopped.
The trembling ground stilled.
The blinding fissures winked out, leaving three enormous, lifeless statues embedded in the battlefield mud.
Silence.
The King lowered his arms.
The golden-silver light faded from his hands.
Cid saw the price instantly, his fingers were nothing but dust scattering in the breeze, his arms crumbling like old ash.
He swayed once, looking over the battlefield, eyes wet but proud.
"Live... live on my people," he rasped, voice raw.
And then, with a final exhale, the King's body shattered into glittering fragments, dissolving on the wind.
For a long time, no one spoke, no one moved.
Cid's throat closed as he stared at the empty space where a man, a King, had stood.
Elias knelt, trembling, tears streaking through the grime on his face.
Yuri simply lowered his head, whispering a single word:
"...Dad."
Three dead Colossals loomed like mountains of obsidian, lifeless now. But at a cost that would never be forgotten.
The march back to the kingdom felt longer than the battle itself.
Rain began to fall over the shattered battlefield, pattering against the Colossals' statues.
No one spoke as they carried the wounded.
Even the most hardened soldiers avoided looking at the empty space where their King had made his stand.
Cid walked in silence, the weight of what he'd witnessed pressing on his chest.
Elias trudged beside him, staring at the mud, lips moving soundlessly as if praying.
Yuri… Yuri kept his head low, fingers curled tight around the strap of his pack, expression unreadable.
By the time the city gates came into view, the sun was setting.
The bells of the outer walls tolled slowly, a mournful rhythm that spread through the streets.
Civilians came out of the evacuation center and gathered, whispering in dread as the tattered remnants of the vanguard returned.
And when the royal standard-bearer tore the blood‑streaked banner from his pole and raised it upside down…
The whispers turned to gasps.
Mothers clutched their children.
The entire kingdom felt the shift:
Their King was dead.
Within the marble halls of the palace, the old man, the one who had fought at the center, was carried in by healers.
The woman in lacquered armor walked beside him, head bowed, rifle still strapped across her back, silent.
The glaive‑man stopped in the courtyard, staring at the ground.
Cid, Elias, and Yuri were ushered in with the others.
The throne room felt wrong without the King's presence, too large, too hollow.
His golden seat stood empty.
The royal steward stepped forward, voice quivering.
"This... was left in His Majesty's own hand before he departed for the front. His last decree."
He broke the seal and began to read, each word echoing through the chamber:
"To my people,
If you hear these words, it means I did not return.
Do not mourn me, carry forward.
Our enemies are endless, but so is our will.
And as for the throne... "
The steward paused, hand trembling as he turned the page.
"I leave my crown not to bloodline, but to worth.
The one who will guide you through the storm ahead is my adopted child.
The one who can see beyond fear itself.
Yuri Falk.
By my hand and seal, I name him the next King of the Bolt Kingdom. "
A stunned silence fell.
Cid's heart thudded in his chest as he turned toward Yuri.
Elias' eyes went wide, jaw dropping.
Yuri himself froze,
"Me...?" he whispered, shaking his head. "No... no, that's... this has to be a mistake..."
But the steward's voice rose louder, firmer, as he read the final line:
"Stand for them, Yuri Falk.
Lead them where I no longer can. "
The throne room erupted into shouts, soldiers bowing, nobles protesting, advisors scrambling to make sense of it.
Yuri stumbled back a step, hands shaking.
Cid reached out, steadying him by the arm.
"You heard him," Cid said quietly, meeting Yuri's wide, terrified eyes.
"This... this is the path now."
Elias swallowed hard, still staring at him.
"You're the King's son…"
Yuri's lips trembled. He didn't speak.
But in his chest, his heartbeat thundered with the echoes of the battlefield and the sacrifice that had been made so he could live.