"Even in the land of the dead, war finds a way to knock on your gates."
Kasanaan – The Court Between Realities
In Kasanaan, mist did not merely drift; it clung to the very essence of existence. Each breath taken here carried the weight of forgotten names, while every step descended into the gravity of endings.
From the obsidian pillars, which appeared to curve into infinity, black witchflame licked the air in languid tides.
Sybill Lucero traversed the bridge of bone, clad in a black gothic suit—tailored voidsilk with a high collar, adorned with obsidian embroidery reminiscent of swirling Baybayin glyphs. Beside her, Kandila ng Dilim burned with an erratic black flame, as if grief had taken a tangible form; each flicker whispered a curse.
Perched atop the throne dais were two figures eagerly anticipating her arrival.
Sitan, the God of the Dead
Armored in voidsteel, his chestplate bore the engraving of a skull-faced eclipse. His massive Sandata—Palakol ng Kasanaan—rested point-down, its intricately carved black-veined voidsteel head inscribed with runes of passage. The weapon exuded a frigid authority, designed to cleave the veil between the living and the dead.
Dian Alintana, the Goddess of Fate
With hair reminiscent of falling starlight, Sinulid ng Kapalaran—her blade-thread of destiny—looped around her wrists in shimmering arcs. Draped in a handwoven Filipiniana gown adorned with constellations, she regarded Sybill with a knowing smile.
"Bes," Dian greeted warmly, her voice resonating like chimes beneath an eclipsed moon. "You never visit unless it's serious."
Sybill's eyes were as sharp as cut obsidian.
"It's serious."
The black flame on her Sandata flickered once, acknowledging the divine presence.
"Gregorio is coming for the final piece," Sybill exclaimed.
Dian's smile softened. "Then hear this truth: the breach phenomenon unraveling your reality was caused by Gregorio Aguilar. But not your Gregorio."
Sybill's jaw tightened. "Another reality?"
Sitan's voice rumbled like a distant avalanche. "Indeed. Gregorio's other self destroyed his own realm, erasing it from existence as easily as dust brushed from a relic's surface."
Dian stepped closer, the silver of her eyes reflecting the black witchflame. "And the Sandata relics? They exist across all realities, with at least one version per world.
In his realm, that Gregorio has already claimed Kamay ni Bathala and united it with the Eyes, transforming him—overtaken by wrath—into a figure declaring vengeance upon the gods." She nodded toward Sitan.
"Especially us."
Sitan tightened his grip on Palakol ng Kasanaan. "So we fled here, into Kasanaan—the land between all realities, the land of the dead. Yet, even this refuge cannot remain certain forever."
Sybill's gaze hardened. "Then he will have to carve through me to reach you."
Dian smirked faintly. "Bes, I have no doubt. But your war in the living world is already calling you back."
The Call to Arms
The conversation fractured mid-breath.
Sybill's witchflame surged, recoiling violently.
Her head snapped toward the unseen horizon of Kasanaan. "The Temple… my Temple of Lakapati… it's under siege."
Visions surged unbidden into her mind:
Babaylans led by Hermano Lopez battering the gates with runic cannons.
Ahas ng mga Lakan forces, led by Raja, tightening the choke with steel and venom.
The Sanggunian ng Dilim—her witches—forming the heart of the fortress, chanting within the inner sanctum.
Dian's threads snapped taut between her fingers. "You'll have no time for gradual defenses. This is a full-scale fortress siege."
Sitan's voice dropped into a death-knell growl. "Let the dead follow you, Witch Queen. I grant you passage." He raised Palakol ng Kasanaan, tearing open a rift of shadow-fire that led back to Davao.
Sybill's black suit swirled and transformed into a dark battle dress as she moved, her Sandata burning higher. "Then I'll make them regret knocking."
Davao – The Siege of the Temple of Lakapati
The Temple rose like a bastion from history—its stepped terraces lined with guardian statues of anito, their obsidian eyes aglow. Behind its massive gates, wards flared against bombardment, but each impact from
Babaylan glyph-mortars splintered the light.
Outside, chaos reigned across the battlefield.
Hermano Lopez, clad in resplendent white-and-gold war regalia, raised Banal na Parusa high, rallying his militant faithful.
Raja, encased in serpent-scale armor, had Haring Sawa coiled lazily around his arm, striking down defenders with whip-like precision.
Amidst their forces, waves of myth-tech armor-clad Babaylans and Bakawan enforcers advanced in staggered fireteams.
From the parapets, the Sanggunian ng Dilim unleashed devastation—arcs of arcane lightning, curses borne on the wind, spectral familiars diving into enemy ranks.
Yet, the siege engines continued their relentless advance.
Kabalyero's Charge
From the eastern streets of Davao, the ground quaked with a new rhythm—a voidsteel growl that resonated like a promise.
The Kabalyero burst forth from a side avenue, its sigil-treads crushing a Bakawan gun emplacement into scrap. Twin myth-tech autocannons tracked and unleashed violet tracer fire, tearing through the flank of a Babaylan phalanx.
Inside, the Sandata Unit was fully equipped—myth-tech armor humming with the resonance of relics.
– Gregorio at the helm, violet spirals etched across his armored bracers.
– Marian at his side, mist curling from the edge of her Sundang.
– Agosto leaned from the rear hatch, Kampilan's crimson vortex glyphs spinning like miniature suns.
– Renato manned the rear turret, Kalasag interfacing with the firing array to deflect incoming arcane bolts.
"Breaching the outer ring," Gregorio called.
"Make us a door!"
Agosto vanished in a red flicker, reappearing atop a Babaylan armored cart. His Kampilan fell in a blazing arc—cutting through the cannon mount before the explosion hurled him back onto the cruiser's roof. "Door's open!"
The Kabalyero roared through the gap, auto-turrets swiveling to shred a charging Bakawan squad.
Black Flame Descends
Above the Temple, the air split—shadowfire spilling like ink into water.
Sybill Lucero emerged in a spiral of black flame, landing atop the fortress gate. The Kandila ng Dilim flared to life. It took the form of a black flame sword—the flame itself forming the blade, sharp and volatile, while the wax shaped into a cold, unyielding hilt. Its presence seemed to absorb both light and breath, a weapon born of shadow and resolve. It surged to full height, its witchflame forming tendrils that lashed at the nearest siege tower, scorching everything it touched.
"Inside!" she commanded, her voice penetrating the din as the Kabalyero skidded into the temple courtyard.
The gates slammed behind them, sealed by a lattice of black glyphs.
The Sandata Unit burst into action. Each took their positions with their Sandata Relics activated.
Marian Dela Fuente stepped beside her, mist trailing from her Sundang ni Makiling like a veil of moonlight. Her stance was low and grounded, the blade held reverse-grip—ready to intercept, not just strike.
A squad of Babaylan riflemen advanced from a landed siege tower, myth-tech rifles glowing with cursefire. Their formation was tight, their aim precise—each barrel inscribed with runes designed to pierce wards and disrupt relic resonance.
Marian moved within the veil.
The first rifle fired—its round spiraling with glyphlight—but Marian was already behind the shooter. Her blade whispered across his armor, severing the glyph matrix that powered his weapon. It fizzled, then collapsed.
Another fired blindly into the mist. Sybill's flame intercepted the round mid-air, devouring its curse payload before it could detonate.
The flame wrapped around the barrel, branding it with a sigil that continued to burn even after the weapon was discarded.
They moved in tandem.
Sybill struck high; Marian low.
Sybill feinted left; Marian countered right.
Each movement was a mirror, each strike a reflection of the other's intent.
A Bakawan enforcer lunged—Sybill parried, and the flame wrapped around his weapon, melting it mid-strike. Marian followed with a pivoting slash, severing his armor glyph and dropping him in a single breath.
They stood back-to-back now, surrounded.
Sybill whispered, "Mistfire Storm?"
Marian nodded. "Mistfire Storm."
Their glyphs activated.
Black flame and silver mist surged upward, forming a hurricane of light and shadow. Enemies who were pulled into the funnel were scorched and torn to pieces.
Fortress Warfare: Inside the Temple
The Sanggunian ng Dilim arranged themselves in a ritual circle, maintaining defensive wards that arched over the inner courtyard like the shell of a cosmic tortoise.
Outside the Walls:
Babaylan artillery bombarded the wards while Ahas ng mga Lakan shock troops pressed into trench lines, lobbing myth-tech grenades that burst into spirals of cursefire.
The Walls Hold
Renato anchored the Kalasag into the ward's lattice, channeling prismatic reinforcement to prevent a glyph-mortar breach.
Marian maneuvered along the ramparts, mist trailing into the streets outside, blinding an advancing unit long enough for Sanggunian hexes to scatter them.
Counterstrike
Gregorio vaulted over the parapet, landing amidst a squad of Bakawans. Kamay ni Bathala flared—each fist strike unraveling the myth-tech enchantments on their armor, rendering them suddenly mortal.
Agosto fought alongside Sybill at the gatehouse, his flaming arcs merging with her black flame in a deadly weave—myth-tech heat meeting arcane night.
Breach at the East Gate
A colossal impact shook the walls—Hermano Lopez himself at the forefront, Banal na Parusa blasting a hole in the ward shield. Raja followed through the gap, Haring Sawa striking out like lightning, scattering defenders.
Serpent's Grief
Stone dust rained from the parapets as the eastern gate shuddered on its hinges, half-hanging after Hermano Lopez's strike.
Through the breach surged chaos—Babaylan shock troops chanting in cadence, serpent-bannered riders flanking their push.
Agosto Santos vaulted from the gatehouse, Kampilan ni Lam-ang aglow with a vortex spiral. He cut down the first trio of intruders in a wide arc, the flames snapping shut like a trap.
Then, the battleground haze thickened. A shadow took shape in it—serpent-scale armor glinting, Haring Sawa coiling restlessly along his arm.
Raja.
Agosto straightened, reading the intent in the set of the man's jaw.
Raja's voice was low, each word tipped with venom.
"You killed Dimas."
Agosto's grip didn't falter. "He struck first. I ended it."
"That was my blood," Raja stepped forward, serpent blade twitching. "You didn't just cut him down—you severed a legacy."
"Then he should've fought like he deserved one."
Haring Sawa hissed—and Raja lunged
.
Clash – Serpent Coil vs. Flame Spiral
The serpent's spectral fangs lashed out. Agosto spun, Kampilan carving a flaming guard that turned the air incandescent. Sparks and glyph-light collided mid-strike, the shockwave rippling back through the courtyard.
Agosto flickered from sight—reappearing at Raja's flank with a killing stroke poised.
Raja bent with serpent grace, deflecting and answering with a whip-crack that grazed Agosto's pauldron.
Agosto grimaced, then poured heat into his blade, unleashing the Flame Spiral Blitz—a rapid-fire sequence that forced Raja back over the fractured threshold.
"You'll pay for Dimas," Raja snarled. "Not today. But soon."
Agosto's blade hung inches from Raja's throat. "Then bring your best. I've already buried your second."
A flare of alien fire swept the gate as Sybill's wards recoiled, sealing against the next wave.
Raja backed into the curling mist beyond, vanishing like smoke drawn through a keyhole.
Agosto exhaled, Kampilan's vortex humming low, before turning back toward the courtyard.
"Let's finish this!", Agosto roared.
Unexpected Partnership
Gregorio landed beside Sybill, both relics resonating in harmony.
She glanced at him sideways. "Ever fought shoulder to shoulder with a witch, Kamay?"
He nearly smiled. "First time for everything."
Sybill – Hellfire
Her black flame surged into a dome, blotting out color from the battlefield. Inside, every illusion, glamor, and enchantment held by the enemy was incinerated.
Babaylans recoiled as their blessed armor cracked, revealing rust and strain, while Bakawans realized too late that their cover had vanished.
Gregorio – Reality Weaving
Violet spirals erupted from his bracers, each coil bending the threads of probability itself. Blades meant to strike true diverted, bullets that should have pierced the heart harmlessly spun into walls. In his wake, enemy formations disintegrated—not solely through brute force, but because the path to their victory had ceased to exist.
The East Gate Became A Crucible
Hermano Lopez surged to the fore, his voice thundering sacred verses that alchemized faith into raw, unrelenting fury. Upon the ramparts, Raja re-emerged—serpent-scale armor glistening—flowing with the predatory grace of a living serpent. Haring Sawa lashed out in precise, fanged arcs, dismantling defenders with surgical efficiency and clearing the path for siege towers to lock seamlessly into position.
Sybill and Gregorio confronted them head-on.
Steel clashed against relic.
Fists met serpent strikes, black flame entwining with arcs of radiant wrath.
Marian swept in from the flank, mist-blades slicing through Babaylan elites.
Agosto's Kampilan carved luminous arcs that severed siege ladders, casting attackers tumbling into the wards below.
Renato locked shields with Sanggunian sisters, their barrier bracing against the final push.
Then—from deep within the Temple's heart, the witches' chant shifted pitch as they screamed,
Smite of Lakapati!
A surge of gold flame and white lightning erupted outward. The shockwave tore through the East Gate breach, tranforming Babaylans and Ahas ng mga Lakan into the dust.
Silence followed—broken only by the groan of fractured siege towers collapsing into the streets.
Hermano Lopez staggered back, blood on his lips, his eyes fixed on Sybill. "This isn't over, witch."
Sybill stepped forward, her flame dimming to a controlled simmer. "It never is."
Raja hissed in retreat, the coils of Haring Sawa tightening as his forces fell back into the shadows.
This battle had been won. The war, however, was only widening. Gregorio glanced toward Sybill. "They'll come harder next time."
She met his gaze, Kandila's black fire reflecting in her eyes. "Then we'll burn brighter."