The wind howled through hollow spires as Rai stepped into the ruins of Halion, a once-holy city now buried beneath layers of ash and glass. What had once been the capital of divine light was now a graveyard of statues—each one shaped like a human mid-scream, frozen by celestial fire. The ground itself shimmered faintly, fragments of divine energy still alive, whispering prayers that had long lost meaning.
Kael followed behind, his armor cracked and scorched. "This… this was the city of the gods' first descent. The place where they walked among men." His voice was low, half awe, half dread.
Rai didn't respond. His eyes were locked on the massive circle of light suspended above the city—a halo, hundreds of meters wide, slowly spinning in the air. From its center, streams of molten radiance dripped down like tears, burning holes into the earth.
"It's feeding," Rai murmured. "Drawing energy from what's left of the divine corpses buried here."
Kael frowned. "You're saying it's alive?"
Rai's crimson eyes flickered. "Alive—and remembering."
Before Kael could ask, the ground trembled. The statues began to move. Cracks spread across their surfaces as blinding white light seeped through. One by one, the petrified citizens of Halion awakened—not as humans, but as constructs of divine grief, twisted guardians of the halo that had damned them.
"Keep your guard," Rai warned, drawing his sword. The black seal across his wrist pulsed in rhythm with the spinning halo above. "They don't think. They only echo what they once prayed for."
As the first guardian lunged—a figure with wings made of glass—Rai met its strike head-on. His blade shattered through it, sending a spray of crystalline shards across the ruins. But instead of blood, light poured out, and each fragment formed into smaller beings, crawling toward them with burning eyes.
Kael raised his shield, blocking the surge. "They multiply with every strike!"
Rai's gaze darted toward the halo again. "Then we cut the source."
He dashed forward, leaping across the broken pillars and rooftops, the halo's light growing hotter with every step. As he neared the center, voices flooded his mind—hundreds of them. Prayers, pleas, cries of mercy. "Save us, King of Light… deliver us from the darkness…"
His sword began to hum. The seal on his wrist flared open, releasing a pulse of black fire that swallowed the sound. He leapt, thrusting his blade into the halo's core.
The explosion was silent—an implosion of light and shadow. The city shuddered as the halo cracked, spilling divine essence across the ruins like molten dawn.
Kael shouted from below, "Rai! You'll kill yourself!"
But Rai didn't stop. The visions came rushing back—Lyra standing in the same city, centuries ago, her hands covered in blood, whispering, "You swore you'd save them, even if it meant burning heaven."
Tears burned down his face. He screamed as the halo shattered, sending a blinding flash across the horizon.
When the light faded, the city was quiet again. The statues had turned to dust. The halo was gone.
Kael stumbled through the smoke, finding Rai on his knees, his sword buried in the ground. The black seal on his wrist had spread up to his shoulder.
Kael knelt beside him. "You did it. But at what cost?"
Rai looked up, his voice barely a whisper. "It remembered me."
Kael's eyes widened. "What?"
Rai turned toward the horizon. There, emerging from the storm of light, stood a woman—her hair flowing like silk flame, her eyes gold and sorrowful.
Lyra.
The woman he thought was dead.
She smiled faintly. "I told you, Rai… vows don't end with death."
And with that, the sky wept light.