The world burned for forty days.
The sky itself dimmed under the violet haze of Rion's magic. What was once the Era of Radiance had turned into a skyless dusk its sun forever filtered through the smoke of dying cities.
Elaria had fallen. Corollo's forests turned to ash. Santomaine's temples collapsed under their own prayers. Sirin's walls, though strong, cracked under waves of demons that never slept, never bled, never stopped.
But amidst the chaos, the forges of Tekyonix remained untouched. Their skies gleamed orange, their machines hummed, their cities shone brighter than ever.
When the other nations begged for aid, Tekyonix answered with silence.
Their High Chancellor declared:
> "Let the divine and the damned destroy each other. When the dust settles, reason will rule what's left."
And at the center of their strategy stood one man. Hevan.
---
Hevan had arrived only days after Rion had first stepped foot in Elaria, another wanderer, another anomaly. But unlike Rion, Hevan had no past, no scars, no memories of pain. His Manifesto burned pure blue, radiant and steady, the same as Elaria's, yet colder, unnaturally perfect.
While Rion had struggled to find belonging, Hevan was made to fit. The scholars of Tekyonix called him the "True Manifest," the correction of an error.
They trained him, armed him, studied him until his light could erase shadows at will.
---
The war against the demons raged on.
Dyell of Sirin led the first charge, her healing magic sustaining armies for days, her defiance a beacon. But even she could not keep up. For every demon slain, three more emerged. Rion's power had become self-sustaining; the demons were breeding within the energy of his despair.
Borgas of Corollo fell next, buried under a flood of creatures he could no longer outmatch. His final spell cracked the earth for leagues, but even his last fire dimmed before the endless violet tide.
By the time half the world had burned, Rion's own body was hollow. Every spell he unleashed drained more than mana, it stole from his soul. His once luminous Manifesto had dulled, trembling with exhaustion.
> "I gave them life," he whispered to the dark. "And now, they've taken mine."
His hands shook. His eyes, once violet flame, were fading to gray.
Celestine's memory haunted him, her unfinished smile flickering between his thoughts.
> "If I could just… give them hearts," he muttered. "If they could just feel"
But even now, his demons stared blankly at the horizon, killing not from anger, but instinct. Hollow soldiers, birthed from hollow love.
---
The end came swiftly.
The armies of Tekyonix descended after every other nation had fallen. Their metal ships cut through the black clouds, and at their head floated a single figure wrapped in light.
Hevan.
He landed upon the ruins of the Sixth Continent, the birthplace of it all. Rion stood waiting amid the ashes of his own creation.
> "So this is the Savior they promised," Rion said weakly, his voice cracking. "They never fail to find a replacement."
Hevan's expression did not change. His voice was calm, sharp, mechanical.
> "You broke the balance. You fed chaos with compassion. Now, I will restore order."
Rion raised his trembling Manifesto. "You think peace is order? Look around you! You're serving the same world that created me!"
Hevan tilted his head, eyes glowing blue. "And you think mercy is rebellion? You gave souls to beasts and called it love. But they still hunger. They always will."
The wind grew heavy. The sky pulsed between violet and blue.
Rion struck first. A barrage of spells from every nation: fire of Sirin, wind of Tekyonix, holy chains of Santomaine, the nature storm of Corollo, and the hydromantic sigils of Elaria.
The ground split, oceans rose, mountains cracked.
Hevan didn't move.
He raised a single hand, and the air froze. Rion's spells shattered mid-flight, the same way light breaks on glass.
The power that Hevan unleashed next was ancient, familiar, a memory buried in the land itself.
A single beam of cerulean light erupted from his palm pure, absolute, godlike. It struck the ground with the same force that had once shattered the ancient Demon King into oblivion, thousands of years before.
The crater bloomed once again.
Rion fell.
---
He collapsed among the ruins, his violet Manifesto flickering faintly beside him. His demons, sensing their creator's fall, froze mid-motion then turned to ash, scattering like snow.
Hevan approached, silent, watching Rion's chest rise and fall weakly.
Rion's voice came out hoarse.
> "You call yourself Savior, but all you save is the lie of perfection."
Hevan knelt. "Perfection is what keeps the world alive."
Rion laughed, a weak, broken sound.
> "No… it keeps it *hollow.*"
He looked at the ash drifting in the air, the remnants of his demons. His hands trembled as he reached out, as if trying to catch them.
> "I tried to give them hearts…" he whispered. "Even if they were monsters… I wanted them to feel."
He looked at Hevan, at the spotless, emotionless light radiating from him.
> "But maybe you're proof it's impossible. Maybe this world just kills anything that feels too much."
Hevan said nothing. With a single motion, he pressed his hand against Rion's chest. The violet flame went out.
The world went still.
---
When the dust cleared, Tekyonix stood unchallenged. Their armies reclaimed what was left of the continents, rebuilding civilization under orange banners of progress.
The Chancellor proclaimed Hevan as the "Bearer of the True Dawn."
And so the Era of Radiance was reborn not through peace, but through dominance.
Yet in the ruins of the Sixth Continent, where no life dared remain, a faint ember flickered inside the crater, Rion's Manifesto, shattered but still glowing faintly violet.
It whispered through the smoke:
> "Peace without feeling… is just another kind of death."
And then, silence.
The world was saved.
But it was colder than ever.
- THE END