The throne room quaked beneath their feet. The scarlet mist thickened, hardening into razor shards of light that rained from the fractured ceiling. Every shard carried the hum of a dying world.
Lacolone stood at the center, body still fused with Maya's radiant energy, blade burning like a miniature sun. The others staggered behind him—Jessica half-conscious, Valgor coughing blood, Salah whispering broken calculations, and Eden clutching the fading glyph that barely held the collapsing space together.
Before them, the Scarlet King rose from the ruins of the throne. His staff was half-shattered, his grin carved in red across a face no longer human. Light bled from the cracks of his form. Behind him, what was once the throne rippled as though made of water and flame.
The air itself was no longer air—it was judgment.
He lifted his arms slowly, and fragments of his staff spiraled upward, reassembling themselves not into a weapon, but into a floating crown of runes. Each rune spun in rhythm with his pulse, emitting a deep, ancient hum that made the walls crawl.
"You think this is my limit?" His voice was soft, almost kind. The runes descended, sinking through his skull. His body glowed red from within, like glass filled with magma.
Maya's voice trembled. "It's the Crown… the true one."
The King looked at them, unmasked at last. His skin stretched thin over light. The outline of veins glowed black-scarlet, pulsing to a rhythm that felt alive. When he spoke again, three voices came out at once—one calm, one wrathful, one whispering prayers for destruction.
"I am not Elito," he said. "I am the Scarlet King. I built the Saints to cage my power, not to wield it."
Valgor froze mid-step, realization breaking through the pain. "We weren't fighting him… We were freeing him."
"He was the prison and the prisoner," Salah murmured.
The King extended his clawed hand, and visions poured from his palm—cities burning, skies thick with smoke, oceans bleeding red. "I gave you the Pillars so that you would judge this world," he said, voice echoing like thunder in water. "But you clung to rot."
Maya screamed, "You're murdering billions!"
He tilted his head slightly. "No. I am cleansing a corpse."
Ash fell from the air like snow.
Lacolone stepped forward, lowering his blade slightly, voice cold. "You took everything from me twice. That's a heavy price to pay."
The King smiled. "Then it's cheaper than I thought."
A mere flick of his claw sent Lacolone crashing into the far wall. The impact split the ground, shaking the whole chamber. Maya caught him midair, her light-net absorbing the worst of it. Blood trickled from her lips as she forced him upright.
Old wounds became fuel.
Then the King spread his arms again. His flesh unfolded into vast, wing-like appendages woven of code, nerves, and light. "Scarlet Pillar—Dominion."
Red hexagons flared beneath the heroes' feet, locking them into patterns. Jessica raised her pistols, but the metal corroded instantly. Valgor slammed his fist into the floor, sending a Riftquake through the lattice, but the pattern absorbed it, twisting it back.
Even their powers bent to his geometry.
Salah's Whispercall flickered through countless frequencies, searching for weakness. "There's nothing," he muttered. "Every wall leads to another wall."
Eden's barrier splintered, shards of light falling like dying stars. Maya's wings dimmed. Lacolone gritted his teeth, whispering through the blood, "Not yet…"
Hope dwindled like breath underwater.
Then, from the edge of the chamber, space itself tore open. A thin slit of red light widened into a portal. Out stepped the boy—the one with twin ancient knives. His steps were calm, too calm.
He looked at Lacolone and smirked. "Still alive? Good."
Then he turned toward the Scarlet King and gave a shallow bow. The pressure radiating from him was unreal, crushing. Even Maya flinched.
He was a Saint—yet unbound.
"I told you you'd be owned soon," the boy said, eyes glinting. "But I'm not crazy enough to fight you alone. I'm just the messenger."
Lacolone hissed, "There's no way this kid's a Saint."
The boy's aura ignited, warping the red hexagons under his feet. Eden staggered back. "He's… stronger than all of us."
Fighting him alongside the King would've been suicide.
Lacolone raised a hand, lowering his blade. "It's a deal. Tell your master we're coming. Tell him we're free."
The boy's grin stretched, thin and cruel. "Then you'll be owned soon." He spun the knives once and vanished, leaving only a scarlet ripple where he'd stood.
The future left through a hole in the air.
The Scarlet King exhaled, and the entire chamber began folding inward. "Run," he said, voice suddenly heavy. "Heal. Reflect. It won't matter."
Maya's eyes widened. "He's pushing us out!"
Lacolone slashed open a Riftform path through the distortion. Jessica grabbed Eden, dragging him through. Valgor and Salah stumbled after. One last pulse of scarlet light hurled them outward—
—and the world shattered.
They fell into a scorched desert under a violet sky. The air burned. Pillars of ancient ruins jutted from the sands like broken ribs. Valgor collapsed first, vomiting blood. Salah followed, gasping for air. Maya knelt beside Jessica, her hands trembling as she tried to heal what remained of her arm.
Eden stared at the endless horizon. "We can't win…"
Lacolone didn't answer. He stared at his blade, the fusion fading, the scarlet glow receding from his veins.
Their war was reduced to breathing.
They built a small shelter from broken stone. Maya worked in silence, bandaging Valgor's wounds with threads of scarlet-white light. Jessica leaned against a wall, pale, her missing arm wrapped in cloth. Salah drew maps in the dust. Eden prayed without words.
Silence became their only plan.
As Maya tended the wounded, her memories returned—flashes of another world, of a door burning with red light, of sacrificing everything to pull Lacolone through. She froze, tears sliding down her face. "This is not real," she whispered. "That energy… from the door—it's the same."
Lacolone met her gaze, haunted.
Memory and reality braided together.
Later, he sat apart from the group, katana across his knees. "If he truly is the King," he murmured, "then what am I?"
Maya knelt beside him, resting a trembling hand on his shoulder. "You're still the one I chose to save."
He closed his eyes. Her touch pulsed with faint light—warm, fragile, alive.
Valgor groaned nearby. "We need a plan before we're erased."
Exhaustion had no mercy.
Salah spread his dusty maps, tracing lines of energy between distant gates. "There's a pattern—seven gates. We've crossed six."
Eden looked up. "The last one leads to the Grand Lord himself."
Jessica forced a grin, raising her broken arm. "Then we go."
Lacolone nodded faintly. "We'll need more than courage."
A plan flickered amid ash.
As Maya's light continued to flow, it changed—no longer just healing flesh, but mending something deeper. The energy became liquid starlight, threading through their souls. She gasped. "I can feel… beyond… the door."
Lacolone rose, meeting her eyes. "Then you're our compass."
Valgor smiled weakly. "And our lifeline."
Her awakening rewrote their limits.
They gathered around her as the violet desert wind howled. The sky above shimmered, darkening until a massive scarlet crown took shape among the stars—its glow spreading across the heavens like a bleeding sun.
They stood beneath it, broken but alive, eyes burning with defiance.
They were wounded. They were cornered.
And yet — the path to the last gate opened.