Jhonathan was thrown through the air like something already discarded by the world.
Twenty arms struck him mid-flight.
Not punches.
Not strikes.
Judgments arriving from every angle at once.
His body twisted, broke, and reformed between impacts—but not fast enough to feel like survival. More like refusal.
Michael's golden form expanded slightly, glowing brighter with every stolen fragment of Jhonathan's existence.
Something in the air felt… consumed.
Not just power.
But grief itself.
Jhonathan slammed into the ground.
The impact shattered concrete for kilometers.
For a moment, there was nothing left moving.
Only silence.
Then—
something impossible happened.
The dust around him began to shift.
Not wind.
Not force.
Memory.
The remnants of his friends' souls circled his broken body.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Like they were remembering him.
His body twitched.
Then rebuilt itself.
Faster than death could confirm what had happened.
Regeneration didn't "heal" him anymore—
it refused the concept of his death entirely.
Jhonathan stood.
Barely stable.
Blood still falling.
But alive in a way that felt less like survival and more like consequence.
He wrapped his hands in torn, blood-soaked bandages.
Slowly.
Calmly.
Like preparing for something he couldn't afford to lose again.
Michael didn't speak.
He didn't need to.
The sky answered instead.
A rain of molten sulfur fell.
The world screamed as it landed.
Even Takobo's remaining barriers melted under its pressure, collapsing like they had been waiting for permission to fail.
Jhonathan moved through it.
Step by step.
Burning.
Still forward.
He struck Michael.
Once.
The ground beneath them collapsed into a crater the size of a fallen city tower.
Again.
The impact sent shockwaves that flattened entire districts.
Each punch wasn't just force.
It was remembrance.
Every hit carried someone he had lost.
Every movement said their names without sound.
Michael flickered.
For the first time.
Not wounded.
Not weakened.
Just… interrupted.
Then he vanished.
No explosion.
No retreat.
Just absence.
Like he had never been there at all.
Jhonathan stood alone in the molten silence.
Breathing heavily.
Listening to nothing.
Then he saw her.
A girl.
Barely standing.
Chains broken around her wrists.
Not a weapon.
Not a soldier.
Just a life that had finally been allowed to continue.
Jhonathan's expression softened.
For the first time since the war began.
He walked toward her slowly.
Carefully.
Like approaching something the world hadn't ruined yet.
"…what is your name, lil one?" he asked quietly.
Her voice shook.
"…R…u…b…y… Wi…ensh…artz…"
A pause.
Jhonathan nodded gently.
"…Hello, Ruby Wienshartz."