His mind was shrouded in a heavy fog, as if the events of the past few minutes had been nothing more than a half-forgotten dream. But reality was far crueler—what was happening now felt too surreal to be true, yet the sharp edge of pain in his body was undeniable.
The air was thick with smoke and ash, and every breath burned like fire in his lungs.
Orion staggered forward, each step a battle against the crushing weight of pain and exhaustion. The ground beneath his boots was littered with glass shards, twisted metal, and embers from what had once been a research facility teeming with life. Now it was nothing more than a graveyard.
Flames devoured the buildings around him, their skeletal frames glowing against the night. Sparks danced through the air like dying fireflies, carried away by the acrid wind. Somewhere in the distance, a metal beam groaned before collapsing, the sound echoing like a funeral bell.
The bodies of those he once called comrades lay scattered across the smoldering ground—men and women who had laughed with him, argued with him, and fought beside him. Now, their lifeless forms were caught in the blaze, swallowed by the very fire that had stolen them away.
Orion himself was no better off. His clothes hung in tatters, torn and blackened by soot. A deep gash in his forehead leaked warm blood down his face, mixing with the grime and ash. One side of his shirt was scorched away entirely, revealing burns etched into his skin like twisted brands.
His left arm pressed desperately against a stab wound in his stomach, each movement sending sharp spikes of agony through his body. His right arm cradled something far more precious than his own life—a smooth, glowing sphere, faintly pulsing like a heartbeat. The Divine Shard. The cause of everything.
The sound came suddenly—an ear-splitting ring that cut through the chaos like a blade.
It wasn't just loud—it was all-consuming. The high-pitched shriek drilled into his skull, making his vision swim. His legs gave way, and he crashed to his knees. His forehead slammed against the fractured concrete floor, reopening the wound on his head.
Warm blood spilled freely now, but Orion barely noticed.
All he could do was clutch at his ears and grit his teeth, muffling his own groan of pain as the sound clawed at his mind.
Through the haze, lights began to flash in the distance—cold, artificial beams slicing through the dark smoke.
Searchlights.
He forced his head up.
Multiple helicopters emerged from behind the dark horizon, their rotors chopping the air with an ominous rhythm. One, then three, then five… each one closing in, their searchlight locking on to him like predators spotting wounded prey.
A voice boomed through the air, metallic and cold.
"Orion. Last warning. Hand over the Divine Shard and we will let you go. Surrender. I repeat—surrender."
The words were calm, but Orion could hear the lie in every syllable.
He blinked against the blinding beams, lifting his free hand to shield his eyes. The heat from the nearby flames licked at his skin, yet the chill in his chest was far worse.
The voice tried again, more insistent now:
"Orion, we are warn—"
"Cut the crap!" Orion's voice ripped through the air, raw and furious.
"I work for the International Research Union! I risked my life alongside my team to find the Divine Shard! We all know what it's capable of—what happens if it falls into the wrong hands."
His breath was ragged, but his words carried the weight of iron.
"As for letting me go…" he gave a short, humorless laugh, "…after you bastards slaughtered every last one of my comrades, you expect me to believe you?"
His knuckles whitened around the crystal sphere, the faint glow reflecting in his bloodshot eyes.
"You want this, right?"
He held it up high, the shard's light catching the smoke like a beacon.
"Then come get it… from my dead body."
The hate in his voice was a living thing—sharp, unyielding, and cold.
For a moment, the only sound was the rhythmic thump of rotor blades. Then the night split apart.
A trail of fire streaked toward him.
A rocket.
Time slowed to a crawl. Orion's gaze fixed on the incoming missile, but there was no fear in his eyes. Only defiance.
He slammed the Divine Shard to the ground.
The crystal shattered instantly, releasing a surge of light so intense it turned night into blinding day.
And then—
The world exploded.
A shockwave tore through the ground, sending debris into the air like a storm of shrapnel. The fire roared louder, fed by the blast. The helicopters were tossed back like toys, their lights vanishing in the glare.
Orion felt nothing—no pain, no heat, no wind. Only a flood of emotions: grief for his fallen comrades, rage for their betrayal, and a cold, unshakable certainty that this was the only path left.
The last thing he knew was darkness swallowing him whole.
And then… nothing.