As Rees and Raphael continued their tense conversation beneath the overcast skies of the ruined village, a sudden, sharp gust of wind swept through the air—unnatural and suffocating. The temperature dropped, the skies darkened, and the atmosphere twisted with an eerie silence. Both men felt it at once.
Raphael's eyes narrowed. "It's here."
Before Rees could react, the ground trembled, and the Dark Entity materialized out of swirling shadows behind him, a jagged blade of darkness in its hand. With a blur of motion, it lunged toward Rees, aiming for a killing blow.
"Rees, look out!" shouted one of his squad members.
Without hesitation, the soldier threw himself in the path of the attack. The blade pierced through his chest. Blood sprayed across the dust-covered stones as the man collapsed with a heavy thud at Rees's feet.
Rees froze, eyes wide, mouth open in a silent scream.
The soldier who had saved him drew a last, shallow breath—and then nothing.
"No…" Rees whispered.
Gunfire erupted as the remaining squad members opened fire, but it was no use. The Dark Entity barely flinched. Moving like a storm, it tore through them with ruthless precision. One by one, they fell—men and women who had followed Rees into battle now lay lifeless on the ground, their sacrifices in vain.
"No!" Rees shouted, stumbling backward, his legs weak beneath him.
With a roar of fury, Raphael surged forward. "Enough!" he bellowed.
In a flash, Raphael closed the distance and struck the entity with a devastating punch, his fist glowing with a faint, pulsing light. The impact sent the creature skidding backward, slamming into a broken wall with a violent crash. Dust and rubble exploded into the air.
But even as it stood, the Dark Entity laughed.
Rees dropped to his knees, clutching his head with trembling hands. His breath came in ragged gasps as guilt and anguish surged through him like a tide.
"Why…?" he muttered. "Why does this keep happening?"
He looked at the lifeless body of the soldier who had died protecting him. His voice cracked with despair. "A-another person… another friend… died for me…"
Tears filled his eyes, mixing with the dirt and blood on his face.
"What is this?" he cried. "Why does this keep happening? Why am I still alive? Why is everyone else dying while I—why I'm not?!"
He slammed his fists into the ground, his voice rising in agony.
"Why does the world keep bleeding for me?!"
Raphael stood over him, eyes burning with quiet fury—not at Rees, but at the nightmare standing before them. "This is what it wants, Rees. It wants your despair. It wants your hopelessness. You can't give it that."
"But I—I can't take this anymore," Rees whispered, shaking.
"You must," Raphael said. "Because if you fall now, all those deaths—every sacrifice—will mean nothing."
The Dark Entity straightened, grinning as shadowy tendrils coiled around its limbs like serpents. It was preparing for another attack.
The sky rumbled with a deep, unnatural growl as the storm of darkness thickened around the ruined village. Black clouds spiraled above, blotting out the sun, casting the entire landscape in an eerie twilight. The air was heavy with dread, and the shadows danced with malice.
From within that darkness, the voice of the Dark Entity echoed like thunder, shaking the very ground beneath their feet.
"After this battle," it roared, "you humans will have nothing left but despair! The despair of watching everything you love perish—the despair of knowing that no matter how hard you fight, you will lose!"
Its voice twisted, cruel and full of mockery, now rising to a frenzied pitch.
"You'll live just long enough to suffer. Long enough to scream. And after that, I will give you all a slow and painful death. One by one, I will erase every single one of you from this world. You filthy, arrogant creatures—you deserve this!"
The shadows flared violently as it spread its arms, conjuring a vision above the battlefield. Images flickered in the sky: cities engulfed in darkness, families crying out as buildings collapsed, soldiers crushed beneath an unstoppable wave of shadow. It wasn't just a threat—it was a glimpse of a future the entity was determined to make real.
"This is vengeance!" the Entity howled. "For everything you've done! For all the destruction you've caused, for the lies, the bloodshed, the greed. You thought you could rule this world unchallenged—but now it is you who will be ruled. By fear. By death. And by me."
The wind howled louder as if the world itself was mourning what was to come.
Then, from amidst the rubble, Raphael stepped forward, his coat whipping in the wind. His face was hardened—not with fear, but with resolve. His eyes met the glowing void where the Entity's eyes might have been.
"No matter what you are," Raphael shouted back, his voice firm and unwavering, "no matter what you think you've become, you're wrong if you believe we will fall so easily."
The Entity hissed, its body rippling with fury.
"You think we will bow to you? That we will let your darkness consume this world?" Raphael's voice rose with passion, cutting through the storm like a blade. "Even if it costs us everything—even if we fall one by one—we will not surrender. Because that is what it means to be human."
He clenched his fists, and the faint glow of energy crackled around them. "We fight. We endure. And even in the face of despair—we choose hope."
The others stood behind him now. Isan, Kazen, Izaki, Hellesa—battered, scarred, but still standing. Still willing to fight.
"You're right about one thing," Raphael continued, stepping forward boldly. "We have made mistakes. We've hurt each other. We've let hatred and pride get in the way. But that's not all we are."
He looked over his shoulder at the survivors who had followed him this far.
"We love. We protect. We grieve. And we change. That's why no matter how many times you knock us down, we will get up again."
The Dark Entity screamed in frustration, releasing a shockwave of dark energy that sent debris flying. But the group held their ground.
"We will not be broken!" Raphael shouted.
"You speak of protecting humanity," the Entity snarled, its voice layered with echoes, "but look around you. Death follows you like a shadow. Your efforts are pointless. All you do is delay the inevitable."
"Maybe," Raphael said. "But I'd rather stand and fight for a sliver of hope than cower before the certainty of death."
The winds died down for a brief moment, and in that silence, a spark ignited.
The air trembled as the Dark Entity's voice split the sky like a thunderclap.
"If you really think you can fight me," it roared, its voice filled with malice and twisted amusement, "then come on—fight me!"
The words hung in the air like a curse. Suddenly, the clouds above churned violently, swallowing the battlefield in a wave of darkness. The bodies of the fallen—soldiers, allies, friends—were lifted into the air and pulled into the swirling vortex above. Their limp forms vanished within the shadows, consumed by the black storm.
Then, a moment of eerie silence.
From the heart of the dark clouds, movement stirred. One by one, figures began to descend. Their forms were familiar—terrifyingly so. Fully cloaked in thick, shadowy tendrils, the returning corpses now stood upright, their eyes glowing faintly with an unnatural light.
Rees staggered back as he recognized them.
"No… N-not them…" he gasped, his voice trembling. His eyes darted from one figure to another, searching for any trace of humanity. "They… they were my comrades."
And then he saw her.
"Avern… no…" he choked. "No, please! Not her. Not again! Y-you even took Avern… Please, just let them go! Let them rest! You monster—just let them die in peace!"
The Entity's form pulsed with malevolent joy, its laughter sending a chill down every spine.
"You said you would fight me," it hissed mockingly. "What happened, Rees? Why did you stop? Look at them—your precious comrades. Does their presence paralyze you? Do they break your will to resist?"
It leaned forward, its eyes glowing with sadistic pleasure.
"I love it," it whispered. "That grief on your face… the helplessness in your trembling voice… the despair in your soul. I feed on it. This is the emotion you humans excel at—despair."
Rees fell to his knees, overwhelmed. His heart pounded, guilt and sorrow crushing him like a vice. His body trembled, tears streaming down his cheeks.
Raphael stepped beside him and knelt down.
"Rees," he said firmly but not unkindly, "those people—they're gone. That thing is only using their bodies. They're puppets now. Empty shells. You need to fight them. It's the only way."
Rees shook his head violently. "But… they talk. They respond. They say things only they would know. How can they do that if they're not alive?"
Raphael hesitated. "I don't know. I wish I did. Its powers… they go beyond anything I've ever seen. But whatever they are now—they are no longer the people you remember."
As Rees stared at Avern's figure—her form twisted by darkness, her voice no longer her own—his sorrow turned to rage.
"You shouldn't have touched them…" he muttered, standing up slowly. "You shouldn't have used them like this."
The Entity smiled wider. "Oh, but I did. And I will again. Every person you fail to save, every friend you leave behind, will rise against you. This is your future, Rees. An army of your regrets."
Then the Entity turned its gaze on Raphael. "This one's for you, Raphael."
The shadows behind it parted, and four new figures emerged. Raphael's expression shifted from determination to horror. He took a step back, eyes wide.
"No…" he whispered.
Izaki, standing nearby, noticed. "Who are they? Dad—who are they?"
Then it screamed, its voice rising to a terrible crescendo.
"Attack them, my puppets!"
The corrupted soldiers moved without hesitation.
"Yes, master," they responded in eerie unison, voices devoid of soul.
Rees looked at them, his heart ripping apart. "Avern…" he whispered one last time.
But something hardened inside him. The pain didn't disappear—it transformed. It became a flame. A will to fight, not just for the living—but for the ones who were lost, and could never come back.
Raphael turned to Rees, his eyes sharp with a warrior's resolve.
"We fight not because we want to, but because we must," he said. "And we will win. Not just for ourselves—but for them too. For the people they used to be."
Rees nodded, wiping his tears. "Let's end this."
And then, without hesitation, they charged into battle.
The corrupted puppets lunged forward with inhuman speed, dark mist trailing their limbs as they launched themselves at the defenders. Raphael, Kazen, and Izaki met them head-on, blades drawn and energy crackling around them. The clash rang through the ruined village like a thunderstrike.
Raphael gritted his teeth. "Don't hold back!" he shouted. "They're not the same people anymore!"
Izaki barely deflected a savage strike aimed at his throat, stumbling back as he glanced at his father. "Dad—why aren't you fighting? What happened?" he yelled, struggling against the weight of his hesitation.
"I… I can't," he whispered, voice breaking.
Before the shadow-puppets could strike, Isan appeared in a flash from behind. His blade sang through the air, and in a swift, sorrowful arc, he sliced down two of the corrupted figures—ending their torment.
Raphael flinched. He dropped to one knee, gripping the earth, breathing hard. "Thank you…" he murmured.
Meanwhile, Rees was locked in his own nightmare. Surrounded by the corrupted forms of his former comrades, he didn't strike back. He only dodged and blocked, gritting his teeth, trying to hold his collapsing emotions together.
And then he saw her.
Avern.
Her movements were jerky, unnatural, like a puppet on invisible strings. Her eyes—once kind—were now cold, empty, glowing with a sinister hue. Rees froze.
"Avern…" he breathed.
One of the puppets swung at him. He ducked instinctively, rolled aside, and stood again, still not fighting back. His sword trembled in his hands. "I can't hurt them," he muttered. "I won't."
The others saw him faltering. One of his comrades, a shadow-twisted version of a man who once shared meals and missions with him, charged forward with a blade drawn. Suddenly, Akin leapt in from the side, his sword flashing.
With a powerful strike, Akin cut down three of the dark puppets. "Rees!" he roared. "Stop hesitating! You need to fight them! I know it's hard, but if you don't, they'll kill you—and everyone else!"
Rees stared at him, dazed.
"I'm not saying to kill them!" Akin shouted again. "But fight back! At least injure them—stop them!"
Driven by desperation, Rees turned toward the corrupted soldier nearest him. His grip tightened. His arms moved. He swung.
But just as his blade descended, Avern stepped between him and the target.
The edge of his sword pierced her side.
"No—!" Rees cried out.
Avern let out a broken breath and crumpled to the ground. Her body twitched before going still, the shadows dissolving from her eyes. Rees dropped to his knees beside her, his sword slipping from his hand.
Tears streamed down his cheeks. "Why… why you?" he whispered. "Why does it always end like this?"
Suddenly, another corrupted puppet lunged at him—but before it could land a blow, a sharp burst of energy shot past Rees's shoulder. A second later, the corrupted soldier fell, lifeless. A cloaked figure emerged from the smoke—one of the surviving Council members. Sword in hand, he cut down the remaining shadows around Rees with grim precision.
Akin dropped beside Rees and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "I know what you're feeling. I know what it's like to see someone you care about twisted into something else. I've been there."
Rees didn't answer. He kept his eyes on Avern's lifeless form, his face hollow.
Akin continued, more firmly this time. "But you're still breathing. You're still here. And everyone else out there—they're counting on you to keep fighting. Avern wouldn't have wanted you to collapse like this. You have to stand, Rees. Now."
Rees's hands curled into fists. He trembled. Then, slowly, he stood.
He wiped his eyes, looked around at the battlefield, and picked up his sword again. The blade was stained, not just with blood—but with memory.
"I'll fight," he said, voice hoarse. "I'll fight… for all of them."
Behind him, Raphael rose as well. His face was a mix of pain and fury. He raised his blade again, nodding toward Rees.
"For those we lost," Raphael said quietly, "and for those who remain."
The battlefield was still filled with the echoes of the past. The corrupted puppets were fewer now, their ranks thinned—but the pain of the battle was heavier than ever. With their grief finally forged into resolve, Rees and the others turned to face the final wave.
The Dark Entity watched from above, its grin wide and cruel.
"Good," it hissed. "Let your emotions guide you. Let your love turn to rage. It only makes your despair all the sweeter when you fail."
But this time, the warriors didn't listen.
They advanced—not as broken souls, but as survivors ready to finish what they started.
The dark clouds above churned like a storm on the brink of release, thunder rumbling as the dark entity loomed over the battlefield, its form shifting and swirling in the air like a phantom of shadow and hate. Its voice echoed across the ruined village, deep and thunderous, a twisted blend of amusement and menace.
"This…" it bellowed, spreading its arms wide as more shadowy figures emerged from the mist behind it, "this is just a fraction of my puppets. You've only seen a glimpse of what I command."
The battlefield fell silent for a moment as thousands of glowing eyes blinked to life in the distance, stretching far beyond the horizon. The silhouettes of twisted, humanoid forms—souls it had consumed, bodies it now controlled—marched slowly forward like an unending tide.
"I have millions," the entity snarled. "Cities I've razed. Populations I've turned into loyal slaves. Families, friends, children—all mine. Tell me, how many can you kill before you break? Ten? A hundred? A thousand?"
The heroes stood frozen, the weight of the numbers bearing down on them like an invisible mountain. Rees's grip tightened on his blade, jaw clenched. Raphael stood firm beside him, but even he looked unsettled.
Then the entity's tone changed—sly, calculating.
"But I am not without mercy," it said, mockingly sweet. "If you wish to survive… if you want me to spare your lives and retreat, then I offer you a choice. One simple trade."
Its glowing red eyes scanned the crowd until they stopped on a single figure.
"I want her," it hissed. "The girl… Hellesa."
Everyone turned to look at her. Hellesa stood near the rear of the group, her eyes wide, her breath caught in her throat. A chill ran down her spine as the entity's gaze pierced into her like a blade.
"Give me what I want," the entity growled. "Surrender her to me, and I'll let the rest of you walk away. No more death. No more blood. You get to live."
The silence that followed was deafening. No one moved. No one spoke. The air felt like it had turned to stone.
Then the entity added, its voice low and cruel, "Refuse… and you'll all join my army. Slowly. Painfully."
The choice hung in the air like a guillotine, its blade already halfway down.