The dust began to settle inside the dying dome, drifting like embers of a fallen world. Gears the size of houses hung crookedly in the air. Rails Karl had conjured through Blueprint Overdrive were shattered, suspended at sickening angles. Erevos stood frozen in the center of it all… immobile.
The sparks settled. The dust hung thick, swirling in sluggish clouds across the ruined interior of the dome. Skyscraper-sized gears wobbled on their axles, rails cracked, and the air was still alive with residual Royal Azure energy.
Karl grunted, trying to shift Erevos forward. Every joint, every servo, every nanite responded sluggishly—or not at all. He twisted the controls frantically, and nothing moved.
"Agnes…?" His voice cracked through the headset.
A soft, almost hesitant hum came back. "Karl… I… I can't… the systems… Torque conduits… exhausted… Vythra… 1 percent… you… cannot move…"
The world seemed to tilt. The realization hit him like a hammer to the chest.
One percent. One percent.
The Trinity Node Core blinked weakly, struggling to maintain cohesion, but Erevos was immobile. Spikes retracted slowly, exhausts stuttered, and floating gears drooped, lifeless, hovering as if exhausted from their own exertion. Karl's fingers tightened on the gauntlets, the visceral rage of every fight they had just endured pooling in his chest.
Vythra: 1%.
Torque: 0%.
Mobility: 0%.
Karl tried again to force movement through Erevos' limbs. Nothing. Not even a twitch. It felt like trying to move a corpse.
Agnes' voice came in fragments — glitchy, breaking.
"K…Karl… systems… collapsed… I-I'm sorry… I can't… make you move…"
Karl exhaled once. Quietly.
He understood.
The demon staggered in the distance, dragging its titanic body out of a crater shaped by Karl's earlier killing thrust. The hole in its torso — big enough to drive a truck through — still steamed. Flesh was torn, bone exposed, dark ichor gushing down in thick rivers.
Karl should've won.
That blow should've killed it.
Karl's visor flickered, displaying the dim Vythra readout. 1 percent. It felt like staring down the edge of a cliff that had already crumbled beneath him.
"I… I never…" the demon continued, voice cracking with both rage and shame. "…I… cannot die… cannot yield… you… Chosen… best… I… ever faced…"
The demon lurched forward, each step trembling, like its body fought against itself. It brought one quivering hand to the hole in its chest… pressed… and howled from the pain.
Then it laughed.
A ragged, broken sound.
"You… Chosen… you gave… me… what Sentinel… never… could…"
Karl's heart skipped.
The demon lifted its head, eyes half-mad, half-awed.
"Sentinel… rival… he and I… fought… three days… three nights… neither… could kill… other… not once… not ever… Perfect… stalemate…"
It paused, remembering — anger and admiration mixing in its molten-red eyes.
"We… retreated… same moment… same breath… both… too wounded… too furious… too proud… to die by any hand… but our own…"
The demon's hands trembled harder now. It reached toward the orb embedded in its forehead — a smooth obsidian sphere veined with burning crimson light.
"And yet… YOU…"
It pointed at Karl.
"…killed me."
The demon—bloodied, bruised, and yet radiating unbroken fury—stood over him. Its chest heaved. Its eyes burned like molten amber, veins glowing red against the mottled gray of its face. And then it spat, cursing in guttural tones that reverberated through the dome:
Its voice cracked — equal parts fury, disbelief, and respect.
"You… your blade… it pierced… my heartstone… split my core… I should… be dead… fully dead…"
The demon clawed at the orb in its forehead with growing desperation. Its fingers dug into its own skull. Cracks spidered across the orb as if reacting, resisting.
"WHY… cannot… DIE…!?"
It roared. The dome trembled. Loose rails bent from the vibrations. Several colossal gears broke from their axles and plummeted, slamming into the ground with world-ending force.
The demon gripped the orb with both hands.
Muscles bulged. Veins pulsed like magma chambers about to erupt. Its claws sank deeper, gouging chunks of flesh from its own face.
"BREAK… BREAK… BREAK—!!"
Agnes flinched in Karl's helmet.
"Karl… that orb… whatever it is… it's preventing its death. If it succeeds—"
Karl cut her off.
"It won't."
Because he could see it — in the demon's eyes.
It wasn't just angry.
It was terrified.
Of living.
The orb pulsed again, binding the demon's life to something ancient, something it clearly despised.
It let out a trembling breath and stopped pulling, head drooping. A defeated titan. A king chained by his own immortality.
"I… apologize…" it rasped. "You gave… me honor… thrill… a true fight… and I… repay… you… with this… shame…"
Karl swallowed hard.
This monster had tried to kill him for the last twenty minutes—
But now?
There was… something almost human in its anguish.
The demon stepped closer, body shaking, ichor pouring like rivers. Its shadow engulfed the frozen Erevos frame.
"I cannot die by my hand…"
It whispered painfully.
"Your strike… lethal… glorious… should have ended me… but this CURSED ORB—!!"
Its hand twitched, reaching toward Karl again — not in hatred, but in apology.
"I… dishonor… your victory."
The mech shuddered under the sheer aura of the creature. Karl's mind raced—every strategy, every movement, every fight tactic now moot. Erevos was a statue, frozen in its most vulnerable position.
"I… apologize…" the demon said suddenly, voice lower, almost human in its sorrow. "…Chosen… I… I have… made this fight… dishonorable… unworthy… your skill… your strength…"
Karl's jaw clenched.
Agnes whispered, barely audible.
"Karl… it really… doesn't want this…"
stepped closer, massive claws scraping against the fractured floor. Dust exploded with each step, the air trembling like a living thing.
"I… must… finish… this," it whispered, voice full of both regret and resolve. "…and… I… apologize… again… for… every… moment…"
Karl's hands gripped the inert controls. His heart pounded. Vythra reading: 1 percent. Erevos—completely immobile. Every rail, every floating gear, every torque conduit—spent.
He knew, in that instant, there would be no escape, no counter, no last-ditch miracle.
The demon raised its claws, shadow stretching across the crippled dome like a harbinger of inevitability. Its amber eyes, fierce yet weary, locked on Karl. The demon lowered its head in shame, voice breaking.
"Forgive me… Chosen. I end this… now… even if unworthy."
It raised its arm — the final blow trembling, but strong enough to tear mountains in half.
Karl, trapped in an unmoving shell of broken gears and empty Vythra tanks, lifted his eyes to meet the demon's.
For the first time, Karl didn't snarl. Didn't taunt. Didn't spit defiance.
He simply nodded.
"Yeah…"
His voice was quiet.
Calm.
"…I forgive you."
The demon inhaled sharply.
It almost looked relieved.
For a heartbeat, a strange stillness settled between them —
A warrior acknowledging another.
Two fighters who understood each other perfectly.
Time seemed to slow. Every fragment of noise, every spark, every trembling rail hung suspended. Karl's chest heaved. One percent. One percent. One percent of life, of motion, of energy left…
And yet, even in that impossible, helpless fraction of chance, Karl's mind was sharp. He met the demon's gaze—not with fear, but with the faintest, defiant smirk.
"This… has been… a pleasure," he whispered.
And with that, it lunged. The final blow—massive, unstoppable, and terrifyingly precise—was aimed squarely at the immobilized Karl and Erevos.
The demon's strike descended. The dome itself seemed to hold its breath.