The silence after the Riftborn's death was heavy.
Ash still drifted lazily through the metallic forest, carried by a breeze that whistled between steel leaves. Light sat against the twisted trunk of a tree, his shoulder bleeding through a torn shirt. His breaths came slow, measured, storm-grey eyes scanning the unnatural horizon.
Feratinnia knelt beside him, trembling hands glowing faintly as she pressed them against his wound. Warmth spread through his skin—soft, soothing, but draining her with each second.
"Stop," Light muttered, voice edged with iron. "You'll burn yourself out."
Her lips pressed tight, silver-blue eyes filled with quiet fire. "If I don't… we both collapse. You forget—I feel it too."
His jaw clenched. He hated it. Not her words, but the truth in them. The Bond chained them together; his pain was hers, his wounds reflected in her trembling body.
Still, he didn't argue further. His storm-grey gaze turned away, but his chest tightened with an emotion he couldn't name.
I can't let her carry this weight.
---
The air shimmered faintly, alive with resonance.
Feratinnia crouched, drawing sigils into the metallic soil with a shard of iron bark. Lines of faint light pulsed outward, forming a lattice that hummed softly.
"This shard of a world… it has a pulse," she whispered, voice heavy with reverence. "Fragments of Origin still breathe here."
Light narrowed his eyes. The pendant at his chest thrummed, answering the lattice like a tuning fork. The hum dug into his bones, deeper, stronger, until he could feel direction itself calling to him.
He turned his head sharply, storm-grey eyes narrowing toward a distant glow between the iron trees.
Feratinnia looked up at him, astonished. "You can feel it?"
He didn't answer. He didn't need to. The Bond carried his certainty into her heart.
He really is the Hybrid.
---
They walked.
The deeper they moved, the stranger the world became.
Gravity shifted—one step heavy as lead, the next so light it almost lifted them off the ground. Sound warped; at times their breaths roared in their ears, at others even their footsteps made no noise.
Light's instincts guided them. When the path trembled with distortion, he pulled her the other way, choosing without hesitation.
Feratinnia stared at him, awe mixing with fear. He doesn't even know the sigils… yet he walks as if the shard itself parts for him.
Her foot slipped. Gravity slammed down heavy, nearly snapping her knee. But before she fell, his hand caught hers, steady, firm.
Her chest ached at the contact, Bond pulsing warm. She looked up at him, lips parting—but his storm-grey eyes stayed forward, unreadable.
"…Don't fall behind," he said simply.
Her heart answered differently: I won't. Not while I'm bound to you.
---
The forest clicked.
Dozens of tiny shapes swarmed from the canopy—shards of living glass with wings that glittered razor-sharp. Their bodies clicked and snapped as they dove, hundreds of legs scraping.
Feratinnia's eyes widened. "Glass-mites—parasites! Don't let them bite!"
Light moved instantly. A short sword flared into his grip, silver steel slicing arcs through the swarm. Crystalline bodies shattered, shards raining like deadly hail.
One leapt for his throat. His blade swung too late—
Flames burst.
A spark leapt from the blade's edge, igniting the mite midair into cinders. Light froze for half a heartbeat, eyes widening. Was that… fire?
The Ember Spark danced faintly along the sword's edge before fading.
Feratinnia's heart skipped. Tears stung her eyes. Magic… without invocation. He awakens more every moment.
She raised her hands, summoning a thin barrier of light that shimmered like glass, deflecting the swarm from his blind side. But when a shard sliced his arm, she cried out, clutching her own, pain mirrored through the Bond.
Together, they cut through the swarm, his blade flashing silver, her barrier holding. The last mite shattered, raining fragments across the ground.
Light exhaled sharply, lowering his sword. His storm-grey eyes flicked to her, noticing her trembling hands. He said nothing, but his chest tightened.
We can't fight like this forever.
---
The trees parted.
At the forest's heart stood an obelisk, towering and ancient, forged of black steel veined with silver light. Its surface hummed with power, resonance pulsing in perfect rhythm with Light's heartbeat.
Feratinnia stepped forward, reverent. Her hand brushed its surface.
The obelisk blazed.
Images seared into their minds—cities burning, towers crumbling, warriors falling. A man stood against the tide, blade of starlight in hand. His face blurred, but his stance… his aura…
Light's breath caught. Why does he feel familiar?
A voice whispered, echoing through the obelisk: "Hybrid. Infinity's child. Gather the fragments. Bind what was sundered."
Feratinnia gasped, falling to her knees. Her silver-blue eyes shone with tears. It's true. All of it. He's the one.
Light's fists clenched, storm-grey eyes darkened. He wanted to deny it, to reject the weight. But the pendant pulsed, and the obelisk answered.
---
The obelisk shuddered.
A deep gong reverberated through the shard. The ground shook. Light staggered, storm-grey eyes narrowing.
From far in the forest, a roar answered.
The steel leaves rattled violently. The air thickened, pressing on their chests.
Feratinnia's face paled. "The Guardian… it knows we touched the fragment."
Light's jaw tightened. He turned toward her, voice low but resolute. "…If this is my fate, then I'll face it. I won't run."
Her lips trembled, but she reached for his hand, clutching it tight. Her voice shook but held firm.
"If you fall, I fall. Then we stand together."
The Bond pulsed, silver light encircling their joined hands.
---
The ground split.
A silhouette rose among the iron trees—towering, monstrous. Its body was plated in black armor, segmented like an insect, arms ending in massive blades that screeched as they scraped the soil. Its head split open to reveal rows of glowing eyes.
The shard Guardian.
Its aura crashed over them, warping the air, bending sound into a suffocating silence.
Feratinnia staggered, blood dripping from her lip. "If it strikes—we die. Unless… unless we overload the Bond."
Light's storm-grey eyes flicked to her. "What happens if we do?"
"…It could kill us both."
He tightened his grip on her hand. "Then we take the risk."
---
The obelisk flared, silver sigils spinning across the ground in radiant circles. The air vibrated with resonance, chains of light linking their hearts.
Light stepped forward, a longsword blazing in his hand. Behind him, the faint silhouette of something larger shimmered—a greatsword waiting to be born.
Feratinnia pressed her palm against his back, her voice a whisper against his storm. "Our fates… as one."
The Guardian lowered its bladed arms, earth quaking under its weight.
Light's storm-grey eyes narrowed, resolve like fire. His voice cut through the silence.
"If the world breaks, then we decide how it comes back together."
The Guardian roared—
And the battle began.
---