"Time for training, Jabari!" Zahara's voice rang through the hall as she burst through the massive wooden doors, their carved panels shuddering in their frames as they slammed open.
Sunlight filtered in behind her, catching on the crystal veins threaded through the walls and scattering warm reflections across the polished floor. The air hummed faintly with latent Nyxara, as it always did in the upper halls of the castle.
He sat straight-backed on the bench, tall and composed, his posture conveying an effortless calm authority rather than rigidity. His shoulders were relaxed, unburdened, as his fingers glided across the keys in a gentle melody that filled the chamber with soft, lingering notes. Each one carried intention—measured, unhurried—as though he were in no rush for the world to intrude.
The crystal-lit glow of the hall caught the soft golden undertone of his skin, reflecting light as if he carried a piece of sunlight with him. With every controlled breath, faint currents of Nyxara stirred beneath the surface, and his eyes glimmered subtly in response—barely perceptible, but unmistakable to those who knew how to look.
"Do we have to? I'd much rather finish this piece."
Her expression was sharp, carved by impatience rather than anger, and her intense gaze fixed on her brother like a challenge already issued. When she spoke—"Father called for us. Now."—there was no room for delay in her tone.
She marched toward him, her footsteps echoing off the crystal-veined walls, sharp and purposeful, cutting through the music like a blade. As she moved, faint light flickered through her eyes and threaded itself into her hair, responding to her rising irritation. Above her head, her halo stirred—normally restrained, but now burning subtly like a contained solar corona, its heat felt even before its glow fully emerged.
Jabari sighed, finally lifting his hands from the keys. The last note faded reluctantly into silence, lingering in the air between them. He half-turned on the bench to face her, his expression mild but stubborn, as though calm itself were his chosen form of defiance.
"But violence is so crude. Shouldn't we be looking for ways to achieve pea—"
Zahara lunged for his arm.
Her fingers brushed his skin—and he vanished.
"I can move by myself," came his voice from behind her, light, and teasing.
She spun around, eyes narrowing, irritation flashing hot and immediate. "Oh, so you think you're fast? Let's race to the training yard."
Her legs ignited into twin columns of flame, heat rippling outward as she lifted off the ground. The halo above her head pulsed with anticipation, its golden light flaring brighter as her power surged.
Jabari rose effortlessly into the air, weightless, as though gravity had simply forgotten him. A faint smirk crossed his face.
"Fine. First one there gets whatever they want."
Zahara grinned. "Three… two… one—go!"
She exploded forward in a burst of flame, the force of it cracking the air as her halo blazed brilliant gold. Fire streamed behind her like a comet's tail, leaving shimmering heat in her wake.
Jabari shot after her, his form blurring as space folded around him. He phased cleanly through a passing servant—reappearing mid-flight with a breathless apology that vanished behind him before it could be heard.
They tore through the castle halls in a streak of light and flame.
Attendants scattered as the twins streaked past—some wielding Nyxara to polish the crystal floors in sweeping, seamless motions, others coaxing glowing gardens into bloom with gentle gestures. The siblings slipped effortlessly between them, banking hard around towers of living crystal that spiraled upward toward the vaulted ceilings like frozen whirlwinds.
Walls pulsed faintly as they passed, luminous veins glowing and dimming in slow, rhythmic patterns—the castle breathing, alive beneath their feet. Wind roared in their ears as they wove through archways and corridors, laughter and startled shouts echoing behind them, the world blurring into light, motion, and momentum.
The twins collided mid-run, grabbing and shoving as each tried to gain the slightest advantage. Zahara hooked an arm around Jabari's shoulder, dragging him back just enough to surge ahead, only for Jabari to twist free and tug her off balance in return. They laughed and argued breathlessly, each using quick bursts of Nyxara and sharp instincts—every feint, pull, and misstep turned into an opportunity to pull ahead by inches.
Neither was willing to give ground.
Not to the other.
The exit loomed ahead: towering wooden doors that separated the inner sanctum from the radiant world beyond. Zahara pulled ahead, flame surging brighter as she pushed herself harder, every muscle burning with exhilaration.
But as they closed the distance, a figure stepped into view.
King Kwame.
Tall and radiant without being imposing, his presence alone seemed to steady the air. His skin carried the soft hue of dawn rather than noon, warmth without glare. His eyes glowed faintly with Nyxara even at rest, and his halo—immense, broad, and steady—hung above him like a crown that never dimmed.
Zahara's eyes widened. Jabari cursed under his breath.
They both tried to stop—but momentum betrayed them.
"Dad, move!" Zahara shouted, squeezing her eyes shut as she braced herself for the inevitable.
Just before impact, they froze mid-air, suspended as if caught in invisible amber. Neither could move. Neither could speak. The fire around Zahara stilled, flames locked in place. Jabari's body strained uselessly against the unseen force.
King Kwame stood beneath them, one hand raised, his expression calm but unamused.
"You're late," King Kwame said, his deep voice resonating through the hall, rolling along the crystal walls like distant thunder held carefully in careful restraint.
The invisible pressure released. Jabari hovered for the briefest moment before settling back onto his feet, straightening his tunic as though being frozen in midair were a minor inconvenience. A smile curved across his face.
"So, you froze us in time," he said lightly. "A little dramatic, don't you think?"
King Kwame's expression softened, amusement flickering in his eyes. "I suppose that is counterintuitive," he replied with a low chuckle as he lowered his hand fully. The air relaxed.
Zahara's flames flickered back into motion, then faded, heat dissipating around her boots.
Turning toward the towering doors ahead, the king placed his palm against the living wood. Light rippled beneath his touch, and the doors parted in silence.
"But I hope you understand why this training is important."
"We do, Father," the twins said in unison, their voices overlapping naturally, a harmony born of long habit.
King Kwame stepped forward into the open air, warm light spilling inward behind him.
"I remember the Holy War as if it never truly passed," he said, his voice calm but weighted. "The day the Covenant first turned its weapons on us, fifty years ago. Hundreds of thousands of our people were slaughtered in the name of progress—offered up to their vision of evolution as though lives were expendable fuel."
He paused, eyes distant, as if measuring time itself.
"Allas the war did not end," he continued. "It did not fade. It was frozen—locked in a standstill, suspended by fear, exhaustion, and restraint on both sides. But a war frozen in time is still a war."
His gaze hardened as it returned to them.
"It waits. It watches. And all it takes is one side to move first for everything to begin again."
Jabari nodded slowly, tension visible in the set of his jaw.
"We understand, Father," he said quietly. "We're ready."
Beyond the threshold, the land unfolded in a vision formed not by conquest, but by balance.
Mountains rose in smooth, arching forms rather than jagged peaks, their slopes flowing like patient stone shaped over
centuries. Valleys spread wide and fertile, filled with golden grasses that swayed in unseen currents and sun-fed forests whose leaves shimmered with an inner, living glow. Rivers cut through the land like ribbons of liquid glass, reflecting the sky so perfectly that the horizon often felt doubled.
Here, flora and fauna lived in quiet symbiosis with Nyxara. Plants leaned subtly aside as people passed, leaves whispering softly as though recognizing familiar kin. Animals moved calmly through the fields and groves—alert but unafraid, rarely aggressive unless balance itself was threatened. Predators were a natural part of this harmony, and at times they caused trouble when instinct pressed too hard against restraint. In those moments, the royal guard responded swiftly and with measured force, ensuring balance was preserved without needless harm. Nothing was allowed to spiral unchecked; equilibrium was always restored.
Above it all, the sky existed in a perpetual state of dawn. Layers of gold, soft white, and pale amber radiance stretched endlessly, a light that never blinded and never dimmed. The Primordial Sun remained suspended at a
constant angle, its warmth diffused by Nyxara-rich atmospheric currents that softened both heat and shadow.
Nyxara itself was visible here, drifting through the air like slow, luminous currents, threading light directly into the atmosphere. Weather followed the same deliberate calm—warm winds carrying the scent of living earth, clouds moving with unhurried grace, rainfall that felt less like a storm and more like a benediction.
Settlements grew organically from the land. Structures formed from living stone, sun-crystal, and Nyxara-infused wood curved gently, following the terrain rather than reshaping it. There were no sharp angles, no monuments meant to dominate the skyline—only forms shaped by harmony and intent.
At the heart of it all stood the capital, Helioren.
Built around the planetary gate nexus, it resembled a vast open garden more than a seat of power. Wide terraces descended into reflective pools. Pathways converged and
diverged without command, allowing movement without coercion. There were no walls.
The three of them moved along a crystalline path that shimmered beneath their feet, each step catching and refracting the ever-present light. The path curved gently away from the castle's grand entrance, guiding them toward the rear gardens where the training yard lay hidden among living stone and sunlit growth.
Their footsteps rang softly against the crystal surface—measured, deliberate—echoing just enough to remind them of the space they crossed. With every step, the world behind them fell away, and the weight of what awaited grew heavier, as though the path itself understood where it led.
At the training yard, the twins moved with practiced efficiency.
They stepped into their Arkstone suits—specialized combat attire engineered to ease Nyxara fatigue, dampen physical pain, and continuously record vital signs and Nyxara consumption. The material adjusted seamlessly to their
bodies, crystalline threads faintly glowing as the systems came online.
Training began not with violence, but with stillness.
They stood apart in quiet focus, breathing slow and deliberate, guiding the flow of Nyxara through their bodies. Zahara's energy pulsed hot and volatile beneath the surface, while Jabari's moved like a controlled current—steady, precise. Stretching followed, each movement intentional, each motion reinforcing balance and restraint.
Only when their breathing synchronized did they transition to combat.
The twins took their positions, standing opposite one another on the open stone of the yard. The air itself seemed to tense, Nyxara currents subtly responding to their presence. King Kwame watched from the perimeter, arms folded, gaze unwavering.
"Ready…" he said.
The pause stretched just long enough to sharpen their focus.
"Begin!"
Zahara struck first.
Flames surged across part of her body as she launched forward, heat rippling outward with explosive force. Before her blow could land, Jabari vanished in a flicker of displaced air—reappearing behind her in the same instant. He drove a counterstrike toward her back—
—but her form dissolved into fire.
His hand phased cleanly through flame, meeting no resistance. Zahara re-formed a heartbeat later, already moving away. Both siblings retreated a step, recalibrating, eyes locked.
Zahara attacked again, twin streams of fire erupting from her palms.
Jabari responded calmly. He opened a distortion in space itself, the flames folding inward as though swallowed by a void. With a flick of his wrist, he redirected the stored energy back at her.
Zahara dodged, rolling aside just in time.
Jabari was already there.
He appeared behind her once more and delivered a sharp kick that sent her crashing into the ground. Stone cracked beneath the impact.
"Ow! That hurt!" Zahara groaned as she pushed herself back to her feet, flames flaring brighter around her limbs.
She didn't hesitate.
In a burst of speed, she blitzed to Jabari's side and drove a punch into his face, the force sending him tumbling backward across the yard. He rolled once, twice—
—and then stopped.
Jabari reappeared floating in front of her, dust clinging to his clothes. With a casual wave of his hand, he unleashed a spatial surge that sent Zahara hurtling through a nearby tree. Wood splintered as she broke through it—but she caught herself midair, landing hard but upright.
Her flames burned brighter now, hotter, the air around her shimmering.
"Hope you're ready for this, make sure you don't get burnt," she said, Nyxara roaring around her.
"Ready for—"
Zahara vanished.
A devastating punch slammed into Jabari's cheek before the words could leave his mouth.
The impact launched him through multiple trees, trunks snapping under the force as his body carved a destructive path through the yard. When he finally came to a stop, the air around him wavered.
In the next instant, he teleported back to the training circle.
"That was good," Jabari said, breathing steady despite the damage. "But it's time to finish this."
He extended his control outward.
The Nyxara within his zone—both his own and the ambient currents of the atmosphere—shifted instantly under his command. The air stilled. The glow dimmed.
Zahara's flames sputtered… then slowly died out, leaving only faint heat shimmer where fire had been.
"No fair!" she protested.
"All is fair in war," King Kwame said evenly. "Jabari wins this one."
Zahara crossed her arms, scowling for half a second before exhaling. "I guess. That makes it a tie then—ten to ten."
"I suppose it does," Jabari said, resigned but faintly amused.
"Are you two, okay? I heard all the noise from the kitchen," a gentle soothing voice came behind everyone.
They all turned around to see who it was.
She stood at the edge of the training garden like a living sunrise.
Tall and graceful, Queen Zuri carried an unshakable calm that seemed to soften the very air around her. Her skin held a warm, sunlit glow—gentler than King Kwame's, yet no less radiant—like light filtered through morning clouds. Her eyes reflected Nyxara as flowing currents of gold and white, often described not as seeing but as perceiving, as though nothing stood beyond her understanding.
Above her head hovered an elegant halo, smooth and continuous, its soft luminosity pulsing slowly in time with her breath. It neither flared nor dimmed—it simply was.
"Mother!" the twins cried in unison.
Jabari and Zahara ran to her, laughter spilling free as they wrapped their arms around her. Zuri bent to embrace them, her warmth enveloping them both.
"How is training going?" she asked gently.
"Good!" Zahara answered, barely containing her excitement. "Jabari just won the duel. That makes it ten to ten!"
Zuri smiled, pride briefly lighting her eyes. "Well done, both of you," she said, kissing the tops of their heads. "Keep working hard and putting in the effort. What is grown with patience will always bear fruit."
Nearby, King Kwame watched with quiet fondness. Faint marks of strain still clung to the twins from their training, but with a calm breath he invoked his Nyxara, reversing time just enough to erase every bruise and ache.
Zuri turned toward him. "How about a picnic lunch in the garden?"
"That sounds perfect," Kwame replied, a warm smile spreading across his face.
Before they could move, their butler entered the training yard and bowed.
"Queen Zuri," he announced, "your guests have arrived."
"At last," she said, straightening. "Everyone, prepare yourselves. Let us greet them properly."
The royal family later entered the grand hall, dressed in attire that reflected Sol'Arashi's harmony of light and form.
Awaiting them were familiar faces.
Two of the royal advisors stood near the center of the hall, composed and dignified. Beside them stood their daughter—Ayana.
Ayana carried herself quietly, hands folded before her. She had a soft-spoken demeanor, her presence gentle yet attentive. A subtle Nyxara glow traced her skin like faint morning light, and her calm eyes reflected a depth of perception that belied her age. Jabari and Zahara immediately brightened at the sight of her—she was one of their closest friends.
Standing at the forefront of the gathering was Prince Amadi, Head of the Royal Guard and the King's brother.
He carried the full authority of his position in his posture alone—straight-backed, grounded, and unyielding. His armor was ceremonial yet functional, bearing the sigil of Sol'Arashi etched with restraint rather than grandeur. His skin still carried the sunlit undertone of the Arashi'Lum, though it appeared subtly dulled, as if light lingered there out of habit rather than harmony.
His eyes often seemed unfocused, not from distraction, but as though they were constantly measuring distances invisible to others—assessing threats that had not yet arrived.
Above his head, his halo flickered—cracked and unstable, refusing the steady glow of balance. It pulsed irregularly, brightening without rhythm, dimming without warning.
At his side stood his son Imani, another of Jabari and Zahara's closest companions. The boy was athletic, his posture confident and upright. A faint sun-hued aura surrounded him, and his halo shone bright and whole—untouched by fracture, untouched by doubt.
For a moment, the grand hall felt balanced.
But beneath the calm, something strained—like space pulled too tight, waiting to give.
No one yet understood how fragile that balance truly was.
The butler led them through a series of sunlit archways and out into the royal gardens, where the world seemed to breathe in color.
Vast fields of flowering plants stretched in every direction—petals of gold, crimson, violet, and soft white swaying gently beneath the eternal dawn. The air was warm and fragrant, heavy with sweetness and life. Nyxara drifted lazily through the garden like threads of light, catching in the petals and making them shimmer as though the flowers themselves were alive.
At the center of the clearing lay a beautifully prepared picnic. Woven mats rested atop soft grass, surrounded by trays of fresh fruits, warm breads, glazed meats, and crystal pitchers filled with sun-infused nectar.
The adults settled onto the mats, laughter and quiet conversation flowing easily, while the children raced off into the open field beyond—voices ringing with joy as they chased one another through the tall grass.
For a brief, fragile hour, the universe felt still.
Perfect.
As if nothing could ever reach them here.
Then the alarms began.
A piercing wail tore through the garden, sharp and unrelenting, shattering the peace like glass.
Everyone froze.
"That's the emergency alarm," Prince Amadi said, already rising to his feet.
King Kwame stood instantly, calm snapping into command. "Amadi," he said firmly, "call the Royal Guard and take the children to a safe location. Now."
The weight of his voice jolted everyone back into motion.
Kwame and the two royal advisors moved swiftly toward the inner gates, heading for the Royal Guard base. Prince Amadi gathered the children and ushered them toward the castle's interior, his posture rigid, his expression hard with focus.
As they ran through the halls, the world outside began to scream.
The ground trembled beneath their feet. Distant explosions echoed through the stone corridors. Through the tall windows, the sky darkened—not with clouds, but with Covenant ships, blotting out the sun until Sol'Arashi looked eclipsed by shadow.
Zahara glanced outside and caught a glimpse of her parents in battle.
King Kwame stood at the heart of the chaos, his halo blazing steady as he froze entire hordes of soldiers mid-stride, locking them helplessly in time. Beside him, Queen Zuri unleashed waves of radiant Nyxara, her energy tearing through Covenant forces in brilliant arcs of light.
The sight burned into Zahara's memory.
Without warning, the ceiling ruptured.
Three Covenant soldiers tore through crystal and stone, crashing down from above in a storm of shattered debris. They struck the floor hard, skidding across fractured crystal before rising in near-perfect unison—armor humming, weapons already charging.
One raised an arm and unleashed a crackling surge of electricity, the bolt screaming through the air toward the children. The other two leveled their arms, cannons unfolding from their forearms as glowing energy built rapidly within them.
They fired.
Blinding blasts raced forward—
—and stopped.
The attacks froze midair, suspended just inches away, held in place by an invisible force that warped the space around them. The air bent inward, groaning under the pressure.
Prince Amadi stepped forward.
His expression was cold, composed, utterly unshaken.
"You've just made the biggest mistake of your miserable lives," he said quietly.
With a single motion, he absorbed the trapped energy into himself. The light vanished into his body as though swallowed whole. In its place, three small spheres of absolute darkness formed at his fingertips—dense, silent, wrong.
He flicked his wrist.
The black spheres streaked forward and struck the Covenant soldiers.
On contact, space collapsed.
Where each sphere touched, reality itself tore open, leaving behind gaping voids that swallowed armor, flesh, and sound alike. The soldiers were erased in an instant, their forms reduced to nothing but empty air and drifting debris.
Silence returned.
Amadi turned back to the children, already moving.
"Let's go," he said, voice flat and commanding.
And they followed—unsure of who their uncle had just turned into a second ago.
They reached the safe house, a reinforced chamber buried deep within the castle. Workers and attendants were already packed inside, fear etched across their faces.
"Stay here," Prince Amadi ordered, ushering the children in. His voice softened only slightly. "Do not leave for any reason."
The door sealed behind him as he turned and ran back toward the battle.
The room fell silent—except for the distant thunder of war.
Zahara clenched her fists.
She stood abruptly, fire flickering beneath her skin. "We can't just stay here," she said, her voice shaking with defiance. "Everyone else is fighting."
"Yeah," Imani agreed, standing beside her. "We should help."
Ayana's eyes widened, fear flashing across her face. "But… isn't it dangerous?"
Zahara turned to Jabari.
He rose slowly, expression calm but resolved. "Yes, it is," he said evenly. "But we have to fight for those who put their trust in us."
Nyxara surged outward as he activated his zone, space subtly warping around him.
Ayana hesitated—then straightened. "Then I'm coming too."
Jabari lifted a hand. The reinforced door dissolved smoothly into shimmering Nyxara particles, flowing apart without a sound. The group stepped into the corridor, and with a controlled gesture, Jabari reformed the door behind them as if it had never been opened.
"Let's do this," Zahara said, her body erupting into brilliant flame as her halo flared wide and fierce.
They moved swiftly through the halls, sticking to shadows and collapsed passageways, making sure no covenant soldiers saw them. Just then, voices echoed ahead.
A squad of Covenant soldiers marched into view—four figures clad in advanced Arkstone suits, weapons humming faintly.
"Locate and eliminate all survivors," one of them barked.
At the order, the unit scattered instantly—forms blurring as they split in multiple directions, vanishing from sight in flashes of distorted light and cloaking fields.
Jabari's eyes narrowed.
"Let's split up," he whispered. "Take them down fast."
His form shimmered—and vanished.
Imani disappeared beside him, both slipping into invisibility as they flanked the soldiers.
Ayana moved silently, her breath controlled as she approached one of the men from behind. With precise movements, she struck—disarming and incapacitating him before he could cry out.
Zahara didn't bother with subtlety.
She walked straight toward her target, flames coiling around her arms. One sharp burst of fire sent the soldier crashing into the wall, armor glowing red-hot as he collapsed.
Moments later, Jabari and Imani reappeared, their targets already neutralized.
Imani let out a breathless laugh, a grin flashing across his face. "Okay… that was a cool ability."
"Been refining it for weeks," Jabari replied, already turning toward the massive doors at the far end of the hall. His focus snapped back into place. "Let's keep moving."
Infront of them, the war for Sol'Arashi raged on.
And the children ran straight into it.
Outside, the world had become hell given form.
The once-pristine crystal paths of Helioren were unrecognizable—shattered beneath scorched stone and torn bodies. Covenant soldiers lay scattered among civilians, men and women sprawled where they had fallen, their forms broken and twisted. Children's bodies lay still amid the wreckage, far too small for the devastation surrounding them.
Blood soaked the ground, pooling between fractured crystal tiles before spilling downhill in dark, sluggish rivers. Severed limbs littered the path—arms, legs, fragments of armor—silent remnants of lives cut short, lying where they had been torn away.
The air smelled of iron and burning Nyxara.
Ayana staggered to a stop.
"Oh—" Her breath caught, and she turned sharply aside, collapsing to her knees as she retched violently onto the crystal ground. Her hands shook as she tried to steady herself, eyes wide and unfocused.
"How could they do this?" she whispered hoarsely, tears streaming freely down her face.
Zahara stood rigid beside her, fists clenched so tightly her knuckles burned white-hot. Flames licked up her arms, brighter and more volatile than before, responding to her fury.
"These people are monsters," Zahara snarled. The heat around her intensified, the air warping visibly. "They deserve to burn."
Jabari said nothing at first.
His jaw was set, his eyes dark as he stared across the carnage. Nyxara stirred violently beneath his calm exterior, pressing hard against the limits of his control.
"Let's move," he said finally, his voice tight. "Staying here won't help anyone."
Imani swallowed hard, forcing himself to look ahead. "Follow the bodies," he said quietly. "That kind of destruction doesn't happen without them being close."
They moved forward.
The farther they went, the louder the battle became—explosions cracking the air, energy discharges screaming overhead, the ground trembling beneath each impact.
Then they saw them.
At the far end of the path, the heart of the battle raged.
King Kwame stood at its center, his immense halo blazing steady and unbroken as he raised both hands. Entire waves of Covenant soldiers froze mid-charge, locked in shimmering temporal prisons—faces contorted in terror, weapons suspended inches from firing.
Beside him, Queen Zuri moved like radiant judgment. Golden-white energy erupted from her palms in devastating arcs, disintegrating Covenant forces instantly—no bodies left behind, no suffering prolonged.
Above them, Prince Amadi bent space itself. The air twisted violently as small, controlled singularities formed and collapsed, dragging clusters of soldiers screaming into nothingness.
The Royal Guard fought fiercely around them, each wielding their power as they protected fleeing civilians. The two royal advisors worked tirelessly among the chaos, guiding survivors to safety, their Nyxara flaring as they pushed people onward.
"Mum! Dad!" Ayana cried suddenly.
She broke formation and ran.
The others shouted her name—but it was too late.
Every head turned.
That single moment of distraction was all the covenant soldiers needed.
A volley of energy rounds screamed through the air.
King Kwame reacted instantly, freezing most of the projectiles mid-flight—but not all.
Three slipped past.
They struck a woman shielding her child, both collapsing instantly. Another tore through a Royal Guard's chest, sending him crashing lifelessly to the ground.
Two more shots streaked past.
They slammed into the backs of the royal advisors.
Their bodies crumpled forward, hitting the crystal path with a deafening finality.
"No—!"
Ayana screamed.
"Mum! Dad!" she sobbed, sprinting to their side as tears blurred her vision. She dropped to her knees, hands glowing desperately as she tried to heal them.
"Please," she begged, voice breaking. "Please don't die on me. I can fix this. I can—"
Nothing happened.
Their bodies lay still.
Cold.
Gone.
"No… no no no no—" Ayana gasped, her hands shaking as her Nyxara faltered.
"Ayana!" Jabari reached her and grabbed her wrist, gripping firmly but gently. "We have to move. We can't lose you too."
He pulled her to her feet, ignoring her protests, and guided them through the chaos—following the panicked flow of fleeing civilians toward a nearby safe house. Inside, the space was already overflowing. Wounded bodies lined the walls and floor, the air thick with the sound of moans and muffled cries. Blood stained the stone beneath their feet, and the sharp scent of pain and fear clung to every breath.
They stopped just inside.
Jabari turned to her, placing both hands on her shoulders. "They need you," he said softly, wiping tears from her cheeks. "Please. Heal them."
Ayana hesitated—then nodded, swallowing her grief as she moved toward the injured.
Jabari turned back toward the battlefield.
He teleported into the chaos just as Zahara and Imani unleashed a sweeping wall of flame, knocking down a surge of Covenant soldiers.
"You shouldn't be here!" Prince Amadi barked, fury etched into his face.
"We came to help!" Imani shouted back.
King Kwame glanced at them—eyes sharp, calculating—then nodded once. "Fine. Stay together. Assist the Royal Guard on the eastern flank."
Zahara grinned fiercely. "You heard him."
She vanished in a blaze of fire, racing eastward.
Imani ignited and followed without hesitation.
Jabari rose into the air beside them, face set with grim resolve.
And the children of Sol'Arashi plunged deeper into war.
On the eastern flank, the battle raged like a living storm.
Hundreds of Covenant soldiers pressed forward in relentless waves, their advanced Arkstone armor flashing as they clashed violently with the Royal Guard. Energy fire scorched the air. Shields shattered. The ground trembled beneath the weight of war.
Jabari acted instantly.
Nyxara surged outward as he expanded his zone, space itself bending subtly around him. With a focused breath, he stripped the air from a section of the battlefield. Covenant soldiers staggered, gasping—then collapsed unconscious where they stood.
"Now!" Zahara shouted.
She and Imani moved as one.
Their flames merged midair, spiraling together into a massive firebomb that detonated with concussive force. The blast rolled across the field, overwhelming enemy lines and sending armored bodies flying.
Jabari followed through.
The temperature within his zone plummeted in an instant. Ice raced across the ground and up enemy armor, freezing the remaining soldiers in place—locked between moments, powerless.
The battlefield fell silent.
Jabari scanned the area, his expression tight with urgency. He checked on the Royal Guard and civilians caught in the fighting, then teleported the civilians in rapid succession to the nearest safe house.
One by one, the injured were carried back toward Ayana, who worked tirelessly—hands glowing as she healed wounds faster than they could be counted.
The trio regrouped with the Royal Guard as the ground trembled beneath the approach of the second wave. Warriors took their positions in disciplined lines, halos blazing brilliantly above their heads as Nyxara surged outward in visible currents. Light, heat, and distortion filled the air, powers rising in unison like a drawn breath before impact.
Jabari stepped forward, eyes burning with resolve.
"Let's end this," he shouted.
And the battlefield answered.
Sometime later, the group regrouped with the royal family.
"We've secured the eastern flank," Jabari said, stepping beside his parents. "Where else do you need us?"
Queen Zuri answered without looking back, unleashing a radiant beam that erased a cluster of soldiers advancing from the right. "Hold that side. They're endless."
Imani stepped forward, Nyxara shifting as he activated the healing power he had copied earlier. Light flowed over King Kwame, Queen Zuri, and Prince Amadi, mending cuts, and stabilizing exhaustion as Jabari and Zahara joined the front line.
For a moment—just a moment—it felt like they were winning.
Then the sky screamed.
The massive Covenant fleets above the city, blotting out the eternal dawn readied their giant canons, coming alive with a pulse of energy. Without hesitation, the ships opened fire.
Energy lanced downward.
Entire sections of the city vanished in seconds.
"Retreat!" King Kwame commanded. "We help the people. Now!"
"The children and I will evacuate the civilians," Queen Zuri said quickly. "You and Amadi destroy the fleet."
Prince Amadi nodded sharply. "Understood."
With a sweeping gesture, he warped the space beneath himself and King Kwame, launching them skyward in a blur of distorted air.
The Queen and the children scattered, guiding survivors toward evacuation gates as Covenant warships rained destruction from above. One by one, airships fell—burning wreckage crashing across the city.
When the final ship was destroyed, the survivors regrouped amid the ruins.
"Well done," King Kwame said, breath steady despite the chaos. "Amadi and I will search for any remaining civilians. The Royal Guard will follow once evacuation is complete."
Prince Amadi stepped forward, fury flashing across his features, his voice cutting through the chaos.
"This is our home," he said sharply. "We cannot simply abandon it because of an attack from lesser beings. If we retreat now, we invite genocide. We must stand against the Covenant—here—and ensure our people survive."
King Kwame turned to face him, slow and deliberate.
"Our duty has never been conquest," he replied, his voice steady, carrying the weight of centuries. "It is balance. It is peace. Always."
His gaze hardened, final and unyielding.
"We cannot protect anything if we choose pride over survival."
For a brief moment, silence fell.
Kwame stepped toward the children and pulled them into a long, warm embrace. "I love you all," he said softly. "I promise—we'll be together again soon."
His body suddenly went slack.
"Dad?" Jabari whispered, pulling back.
The world seemed to stop.
King Kwame collapsed.
There was no explosion. No warning.
Just absence.
Zahara screamed.
Queen Zuri staggered forward, horror tearing across her face.
"I'm sorry, brother," Prince Amadi said quietly, blood streaked across his armor. "But I cannot allow you to lead our people to extinction."
His voice was cold. Final.
"Consider this mercy."
Something broke.
A massive halo erupted above Jabari's head—larger, brighter than anything ever recorded. Golden light tore skyward as Nyxara exploded from his body, cracking the air itself.
Before anyone could react—
Prince Amadi was launched backward, hurled through buildings like shattered glass.
Jabari vanished.
Reappeared.
A single punch sent Prince Amadi rocketing upward, his body tearing through the sky like a comet.
Jabari followed instantly.
He appeared above him, then beside him—striking again and again. Each blow bent the air, space itself rippling and folding under the force of his Nyxara. Every impact thundered, echoing across the ruined city below.
Amadi's ascent slowed.
Jabari twisted mid-air and drove a final, devastating kick into his uncle's chest.
Prince Amadi crashed into the ground far below, the earth fracturing outward in a spiderweb of shattered crystal and stone.
For a breathless moment, silence followed.
Then Amadi stood.
Dust slid from his armor as he straightened, not a single wound marking his body. He looked almost disappointed.
"I'm doing this to save us, Jabari," he said calmly. "This fight is pointless."
He took a step forward, unhurried.
"You know you cannot defeat me in a duel," Amadi continued, voice cold and measured. "We should be preparing for the reinforcements they're sending instead of wasting time on this."
Jabari hovered above him, fists shaking.
"He was your brother," Jabari said, his voice cracking. "My father."
Tears slipped free, streaking down his face, evaporating as they met the heat of his Nyxara.
"I swear," Jabari roared, grief twisting into fury as his halo flared brighter than ever, "I will kill you—even if it costs me my life!"
Amadi's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Strong words," he replied. "Let's see if you can back them up."
The space between them vanished.
In an instant, Amadi appeared directly in front of Jabari and drove a crushing punch into his face. Jabari was launched backward—but before he could travel far, space folded again.
Another strike.
Then a kick.
Jabari tore through multiple buildings, crystal and stone exploding around him as he tumbled. Before he could orient himself, Amadi appeared at his side once more.
Jabari tried to move.
Couldn't.
An unseen force locked him in place, crushing down on him from every direction.
"You're still too weak, Jabari" Amadi said flatly. "If this continues… I may have to kill you."
With a final punch, he sent Jabari soaring straight upward.
Jabari barely managed to stop himself midair.
He hovered there, battered and bleeding, his body trembling as blood ran freely down his side. His breath came ragged, vision swimming—but his eyes burned with defiance.
"Time to die, Amadi," Jabari whispered.
Nyxara surged violently.
Between his hands formed a massive sphere of energy—not ordinary Nyxara, but pure Primordial Sun essence, blazing white-gold and radiating unbearable heat.
Amadi looked up, genuine shock flickering across his face.
"You continue to surprise me," he said quietly.
Jabari hurled the sphere downward.
It vanished.
Not exploded—erased.
Amadi had removed the space it occupied entirely.
Jabari's eyes widened.
Before he could form another, Amadi appeared beside him.
"Too slow."
Pain exploded through Jabari's side.
He looked down in disbelief.
There was a hole torn clean through his torso, blood pouring freely as his strength vanished in an instant.
Jabari began to fall.
Just before he hit the ground, flames wrapped around him—
Zahara caught him midair, screaming his name as she slowed their descent. They hit the ground hard but alive.
Ayana was already there.
She dropped beside Jabari, hands glowing desperately as she pressed them against his wound. Tears streamed down her face, blurring her vision as she fought to keep him alive.
"Stay with me," she begged softly. "Please… just stay with me."
And Prince Amadi watched, expression unreadable.
"You're a dead man, Amadi!"
Zahara's voice cracked the air as her flames surged violently, burning hotter and brighter than ever before. The ground beneath her feet scorched and fractured as her halo flared wide, heat rolling outward in waves.
She took a step forward—
And the alarms screamed back to life.
Their wail tore through the battlefield, sharp and urgent, drowning out even the thunder of collapsing buildings.
Queen Zuri turned instantly.
"Children," she commanded, her voice carrying absolute authority, "take Jabari and evacuate. Now."
Her body began to change.
Light poured from her skin as her physical form dissolved into pure Nyxara—radiant, blinding, overwhelming. She became living energy, her halo expanding into a blazing corona that lit the sky.
"I'll hold them back."
"No!" Zahara shouted, panic breaking through her fury.
But it was already too late.
"I'm sorry," Prince Amadi said calmly as space folded and he teleported directly toward the children. "I won't allow anyone to leave."
He reappeared—
Straight into a beam of annihilating light.
Queen Zuri struck without hesitation, her energy tearing across the battlefield and forcing Amadi back mid-step.
"GO!" she screamed.
Zahara didn't argue.
She lifted Jabari into her arms, his blood staining her hands as his body went limp. Flames burst from her feet as she turned and ran, Imani and Ayana racing beside her toward the planetary gate.
"NO!" Amadi roared, trying to pursue—
—but Queen Zuri intercepted him again, her radiant form slamming into his path like a living sun. Space buckled violently as their powers collided.
One by one, Imani and Ayana crossed through the gate, swallowed by its blinding light.
Zahara reached the threshold last.
She stopped.
For just a heartbeat.
She looked back.
Through smoke and fire and collapsing sky, she saw her mother—brilliant, burning, unwavering.
Queen Zuri met her gaze.
Her lips moved silently.
I love you.
The light consumed everything.
And Sol'Arashi screamed.