The evening outside the airport was hell. Blood soaked the streets as monsters crawled through the ruined city, feeding on the fallen. Screams had long faded into distant echoes. The purge had turned familiar roads into slaughter grounds.
Then the heavy armory military arrived. Armored vehicles rolled in, guns blazing. Soldiers in tactical gear poured out, faces grim but determined. They opened fire with heavy weaponry machine guns tearing through leathery hides, rocket launchers exploding clusters of beasts mid-air. One sergeant shouted orders as his squad mowed down a pack of winged horrors diving toward survivors. "Keep formation! Aim for the heads!" Explosions lit the night as grenades cleared paths. A tank rolled forward, its cannon blasting a massive creature into pieces. Soldiers moved with practiced efficiency, covering civilians while laying down suppressive fire. Lives were saved in the chaos, but the cost was visible in the blood staining their boots.
In the midst of it, a helicopter descended. Shogun Kurogami and Ritik Aether jumped out, scanning for Gunjan.
The moment Gunjan saw Ritik, something inside her broke. She ran to him. They collided in a tight hug, his arms wrapping around her like he feared she'd vanish. Gunjan buried her face in his chest, tears finally spilling freely. "I'm sorry," she choked out, voice raw with guilt. "I couldn't save him… our grandson. The hospital… everything collapsed. Manya… she's gone too. I tried, Ritik. I tried so hard."
Ritik held her tighter, his own eyes wet. His voice cracked. "It's not your fault. None of this is. We're here now. That's what matters." He stroked her hair, fighting back his own grief. The weight of losing his son's child hit him hard, but Gunjan's pain kept him grounded. They stood there in the middle of war, holding each other amid the distant gunfire and roars.
Vanya joined them quietly, still shaken. They boarded the helicopter together. As it lifted off toward a safer location, Gunjan stared out the window, tears streaming. Ritik kept one arm around her, silent support in the noise of the rotors. Vanya sat across from them, eyes distant, the mark on her cheek glowing faintly. The city below burned and bled, but for a moment in that helicopter, the three of them clung to what remained of family.
Meanwhile, in the heart of the city, Viola Ren walked casually through the carnage. Spear resting lightly on her shoulder like a picnic accessory, she moved with effortless grace. Monsters lunged at her. She dispatched them with bored flicks of her wrist—spear spinning, heads rolling, bodies crumpling. She didn't run. She didn't even hurry. Just another evening stroll through hell, pride radiating from every step.
The purge raged on, but some fragments of humanity still held.