The battlefield fell silent as the clash of titans ended. Blood-soaked and panting, Felix staggered toward his fallen opponent. "Join me, Ynol," he demanded, his voice hoarse from battle cries. "Your power—I could make you—" Ynol's thunderous laugh cut him off, blood spraying from his lips. "This was my final glory," he growled, eyes burning with fierce satisfaction despite the mortal wound in his chest. Felix knelt beside him, desperation in his voice. "Damn it, you can still live! THINK ABOUT THE RICHES!" Ynol seized Felix's arm with crushing force. "I CHOSE THIS END!" he roared. "A titan's blood DEMANDS a warrior's death!" Silence crashed between them until Felix suddenly cursed. "Dex—the barrier!" He opens a rift into space , tearing it open. As Dex stumbled free, Ynol's voice came again, softer but no less commanding: "Wine. Bring me wine." Felix's eyes narrowed. " Not if your story dies with you."
Ynol's laughter erupted like distant thunder—a sound Felix had grown accustomed to , due to his past , but one that made Dex wince and cover his ears with trembling hands. The dying titan noticed and lowered his voice to a rumble. "Forgive me, little one," he said, his ancient eyes crinkling at the corners. "Very well, I shall tell you this wretched tale, though I cannot understand why you'd waste your final moments with me on such sorrow." Felix straightened his blood-spattered cloak and replied, "The mythical beast wine from Sector 2 requires careful handling—its crystal decanter burns any unworthy hand. Begin your story; the wine will arrive before its conclusion. I've never broken my word." Ynol's cracked lips curled into a knowing smirk as he gazed into the middle distance, his voice taking on the hollow quality of one who has witnessed centuries pass like seasons. "Long ago, beneath skies unmarred by war, lived a titan who knew nothing of his heritage. He aged so slowly that decades passed before he noticed the first gray hairs of his childhood friends while his face remained smooth as river stone. One by one, he buried those he loved until he stood alone at gravesides, finally understanding the curse of his bloodline—immortality. Grief hollowed him like a dead tree. He retreated to the forest's edge, speaking only when necessary to sell firewood to villagers who whispered behind their hands. Children who had once sat on his knee became elders who pointed accusingly, calling him 'monster.' Some came with blades and torches, believing his blood held the secret to eternal life. They would drain him like wine if they could, until one fateful day—"
Ynol's eyes gleamed with unshed tears, his massive hand trembling as he clutched his wounded side. "She wasn't human," he rasped, voice breaking. "No mortal could shine so bright in a world so dark. The villagers had pelted me with stones that day until my skin bled, screaming 'MONSTER!' while I stood silent, selling my worthless wood. Then—" he slammed his fist against the ground, making the earth quake beneath them—"she appeared with those damned white flowers, radiant as a fallen star. Her eyes pierced my soul when she said, 'These flowers mark endings. I give them to end your suffering, because even you deserve joy.'" Ynol's laugh turned into a violent cough, spraying crimson across his chest. "Did you know what she shouted when a child screamed I was a monster?" Felix shook his head, transfixed. "She BURNED them with her words: 'EVEN IF HE IS A MONSTER, DOES HE NOT DESERVE HAPPINESS?'" Ynol's voice thundered, then dropped to a whisper. "The crowd fell silent. My heart STOPPED. Time froze as I drowned in her gaze, in those lips I would die remembering." Blood bubbled between his teeth as Felix lunged forward, but Ynol shoved him away, determined to finish.
Ynol's voice trembles as he continues, "Every single day, she'd bring him a new flower—each one with its own story." His eyes glaze over, lost in memory. A girl's voice echoes through his mind: "Rosemary burns with love and bleeds loyalty," followed by that laugh that still pierces his soul. "Then she vanished. Gone from town like morning mist. I convinced myself she'd grown bored—that I was nothing but a plaything to her." His fists clench until knuckles whiten. "I DESPISE MYSELF FOR THAT! WHY DIDN'T I HUNT FOR HER? WHY WAS I SUCH A COWARD? WHY—" His words drown in a violent spray of crimson that erupts from his throat. Felix lunges forward with the healing serum, but Ynol smashes it away, sending glass shards scattering. When Felix's supernatural speed kicks in to retrieve it, Ynol's hand shoots out, fingers digging into Felix's ankle like talons. "Hear the tale, boy, not its broken vessel," he rasps through blood-stained teeth. "This pain is NOTHING. I've got a story that demands to be finished—and so do I."