Solaris burned with false light. At every doorway, bowls of ash glowed with embers that pulsed like stars stolen from the sky. The air was heavy with smoke and whispers; prayers slipped from cracked lips, woven with fear and longing. Children clutched blackened feathers strung on cords, told by parents they were blessed by the Savior's wings. To outsiders, the city glimmered alive, sacred. But to Andy, every flicker felt like a tomb fire.
He kept his hood low as he moved through the narrow alleys, Nia close at his side, the small band of Resistance trailing behind. The air was so thick with heat that sweat clung to his brow despite the chill of night. His ring pulsed faintly, and when he glanced sideways, he saw Nia's hand glowing the same. Even without words, they both knew—it was Ashen's presence pressing down on them, woven into the very stones of Solaris.
The stillness shattered with a scream.
Shapes poured from the shadows: zealots. Their bodies were gaunt, eyes glowing crimson as if lit from within, skin marred by streaks of black ash fused to their veins. They clutched jagged weapons—splintered bone, rusted steel, chunks of stone bound in cloth still smoldering. Their voices rose in cracked unison, shrieking: "Ashen watches! Ashen saves!"
Andy stepped forward before fear could settle in. He drew both blades, his breath igniting with mana. Flame and water surged through his body, steam coiling in the air. His muscles lit with dragon-blood fire, faint scales shimmering along his arms. Dragon Warrior Form—Tier One. Heat rolled off him in a wave.
The zealots froze for a heartbeat at the sight. Then, driven mad with devotion, they screamed louder and rushed.
Nia slammed her staff down, silver light bursting outward in a dome. A shimmering barrier sealed across the alley's mouth, knives and broken spears shattering against it in a cascade of sparks. Her voice rang steady despite the strain tightening her brow. "Andy! Don't let them touch the civilians!"
"On it!" His reply was short, sharp—his focus locked.
The first zealot's club came down, wild and heavy. Andy ducked low, flame exploding beneath his step, and cut upward. His blade sliced through corrupted flesh, and the man's body split with a scream, disintegrating into ash. Two more surged in, claws glowing red-hot, teeth bared in chants.
Andy spun. Mana roared through his blades as he invoked Twin Surge. Fire and water spiraled in opposite arcs, colliding in a blast of steam that erupted down the alley. The zealots shrieked as the torrent seared them, skin blistering, but they crawled forward anyway, mouths still chanting their Savior's name.
One broke past. With startling speed, he darted toward the cluster of Resistance fighters at the safehouse door. Andy cursed and pivoted, but the thick corruption in the air clawed at his lungs, his chest burning, slowing him.
"Andy!"
Nia's voice cut sharp. Her staff flared, releasing a lance of pure light that streaked across the alley and struck the zealot square in the chest. He convulsed mid-leap, eyes wide as ash burst from his mouth and his body collapsed in a cascade of dust.
Andy turned just in time to see Nia sway, pale from mana drain. Sweat clung to her temple, but her gaze stayed fierce. She held the staff steady, refusing to falter.
A crash pulled his attention back. Another zealot slammed into his side, claws tearing through his guard. Agony flared white-hot down his arm, blood splattering the stones. His form flickered, knees buckling—until a hand caught his wrist.
Nia was there. Her fingers were warm, trembling, but her eyes locked on his, bright with fire. Their rings pulsed together, resonance surging through the bond. "Focus, Andy. I've got you."
The hum steadied him. His breath evened, flames flaring brighter, scales glinting sharp in the dark. With a guttural roar, he drove his blade through the zealot, splitting him from shoulder to hip. Ash exploded outward, scattering across the ground.
Silence fell. Embers drifted in the still air, glowing faint orange before fading to nothing. The alley smelled of char and blood. Andy staggered, dropping to one knee, chest heaving. Blood ran hot from his wounded arm, dripping onto the stones.
Nia knelt instantly, staff trembling as she pressed light into the wound. Threads of silver wove through the torn flesh, knitting the skin closed. Her whisper was soft, but her eyes were heavy with sorrow as they lingered on the piles of ash that had once been people. "They weren't fighters," she murmured. "They were believers."
Andy's jaw clenched. He stared at the ashes, then at the shrine burning faintly in the distance. "Then Ashen's turned faith into his weapon." His grip tightened on his blade. "And we'll need something stronger to break it."
The Resistance was silent, no one daring to breathe too loud. Somewhere at the end of the alley, a shrine flame pulsed, twisting unnaturally until it formed the shape of a blazing eye. It blinked once, and though it faded a second later, every soul present knew they had been seen.
---
Inside the safehouse, the air buzzed with panic. Resistance fighters shouted over each other, voices rising in fear. "We can't stop him!" "If the entire city kneels, what chance do we have?" "We'll all burn!"
Andy sat in silence, shoulder bound tight, his jaw like stone. Rage curled in his chest at their words, but he didn't speak.
Nia did.
Her staff rang against the cracked floor as she stepped forward. "Enough!" she snapped, voice like a whip. The noise stilled instantly, every eye turning to her. Pale from exhaustion, hair sticking to her damp cheeks, she still stood tall. "If Solaris keeps bowing to shrines, Ashen doesn't even need to fight. He's already won."
The weight of her words pressed on the room. Andy found himself staring at her, surprised by the steel burning in her voice.
She turned toward him, gaze unflinching. "We've fought claws and shadows. We've fought monsters made of flesh and curses. But this… this is different. This is faith twisted into chains. And chains aren't broken with swords alone."
Andy's fists tightened. "So we just… talk them out of worshipping a false god while he watches from the sky?"
"If that's what it takes." Her hands shook, but her voice never wavered. "We'll tear down the shrines. We'll heal the corrupted. We'll show them our Bond is stronger than his chains. That's how we win."
Before Andy could answer, the System pulsed, letters burning across their vision.
[New Quest: Break the Chains of Faith (0/5 Shrines)]
The glow faded into their rings. Andy let out a long breath, then extended his hand. For a moment, Nia hesitated. Then she placed hers in his. Their rings burned warm, resonance humming through both of them, silent but unyielding.
Later, when the safehouse drifted into uneasy sleep, Andy stepped outside. The streets were eerily still. He sat with his back against the wall, blades resting at his knees, eyes on the distant shrines.
Nia joined him quietly, sitting at his side. She didn't speak, simply leaned against him, her staff across her lap. For a while, the only sound was the faint crackle of shrine fire.
"We've fought monsters before," Andy said at last, his voice low, rough. "But this… it's not just claws and fangs. It's faith."
Her lips curved faintly. "Then we'll fight with something stronger than faith."
Their rings glowed softly, resonating in the night.
Far away, one shrine flame suddenly flared, rising high enough to cast wings of fire across the rooftops. For the briefest moment, the entire sky seemed to blaze with the shape of a vast bird watching silently from above.
Andy's chest tightened. He swore he could feel the weight of its eyes on him.
Ashen was watching.
---