The ground trembled beneath their feet.
Kael, his eyes glowing with unstable angelic light, stood face-to-face with Veyrith—the fearsome leader of the Black Fang outpost.
The air between them sparked as their powers clashed: light against flame, time against speed.
Kael lunged first.
His right hand blazed with telekinetic force, hurling debris like missiles at Veyrith, but the enemy vanished in a blur of Phantom speed.
Veyrith reappeared behind him, slamming a heavy fist into Kael's back with Titan force, sending him crashing through stone.
Kael staggered to his feet, coughing blood.
But he wasn't done.
He launched bursts of unstable time waves—flickering zones where reality slowed and twitched.
His blade, gripped tightly in his left hand, flared with demonic fire.
With a roar, he charged again.
The battle was brutal.
Each clash echoed like thunder across the canyon. Buildings cracked. Walls buckled.
Even the sky above dimmed, clouds swirling like they feared the outcome.
Kael couldn't keep up. Not like this. Not without losing more of himself.
And so, with no choice left, he invoked his deepest power.
Time... stopped.
Veyrith froze mid-swing, locked in a motionless slice of existence.
Kael stepped forward, every movement heavy in the frozen moment.
The air shimmered like fractured glass.
He raised his sword—its flame burning brighter than ever before.
But just as he moved to strike...
Agony.
A blinding pain tore through his chest.
His powers buckled.
The moment shattered.
Time rushed back in a single violent breath.
But Kael's blade had already found its mark.
Veyrith staggered backward, clutching the deep, searing wound now carved across his chest.
Black blood poured down his armor.
A scar he would never forget.
"You... monster..." Veyrith snarled, his voice dripping with hate.
"We shall meet again."
He vanished—fleeing into shadow, not defeated... but wounded.
Kael collapsed.
His vision faded.
His body trembled as the weight of his unstable powers overwhelmed him.
When Kael awoke, he was no longer on the battlefield.
He was back at the hidden base.
Caziel sat quietly at his side.
Across the room, Yuna rested peacefully—healed.
Others who had been mortally wounded now walked freely, their injuries gone.
Kael blinked, confused.
He didn't remember healing them.
But he had.
Even while unconscious, his powers—his angelic core—had acted on instinct.
They had reached into others and restored what was broken.
A side effect… or a sign of evolution.
As he lay there, barely conscious, a voice echoed through the hollow of his mind.
Warm. Familiar.
His mother.
"Kael… the sword… it cannot fall into the wrong hands.
You must find it before it's too late.
There is a place... hidden beyond reach, where your father sealed it away."
Kael stirred, clutching his chest where the searing pain had struck.
That voice, that vision... it felt too real to be just a dream.
The warning echoed in his blood.
And now, the hunt would begin.
The sword of his legacy—the weapon sealed away by his father—was calling.
And so was the darkness that sought to claim it first.