Moon’s laughter echoed as he hovered above the shattered canyon, palm outstretched, holding a high-ranked darkling by the throat. The creature writhed, claws flailing uselessly.

  “You were supposed to be scary,” Moon laughed. “Rank Nine, was it? Hm. You suck.”

  The darkling choked, and with a flick of his wrist, Moon launched the body into the rocks below. The ground split on impact.

  “Next.”

  He turned, eyes sweeping the ridgeline where the others waited. A small army of shadowed beings, cultists, corrupted angels, whatever the darkness had dredged up today. They didn’t move. Not after what they’d just seen.

  Moon floated forward, arms loose at his sides. “Come on. You were real chatty five minutes ago.”

  Still, no one moved.

  Then it hit.

  A pause in his breath. A ripple in the air. Something cold behind his ribs. His smile faltered. Just slightly.

  He reached up to his chest, fingers pressing over a strange sensation. A thread. Tight. Pulling. It hurt, not in the body, but in the soul. It wasn’t his pain.

  “Toru…”

  Moon stopped mid-step, eyes narrowing. The world dulled around him. The wind. The silence. All drowned beneath that sudden, sinking weight.

  The army ahead took his stillness as hesitation. A few stepped forward. One of them laughed.

  Moon tilted his head slightly.

  Then the sky stuttered. Not thunder. Not lightning. Something else. A patch of air above him shimmered, just for a second. Faint purple light, like a tear in reality trying to form but collapsing on itself. It blinked out. Gone. Fragile. Weak.

  But Moon recognized it.

  “No,” he whispered, heart catching. “That wasn’t—”

  A pull deep inside him. Not physical. Not even spiritual. Just real. A connection. A bond.

  Toru.

  A flicker of power. A failure to hold it. And Toru... alone. It wasn’t an attack. It was a call.

  “Toru tried to fight.” Moon’s voice dropped. “And he couldn’t.”

  His smile vanished entirely. His hand drifted to his chest, where the warmth used to be. Now it felt cold. Hollow.

  Then the pain came in full. Regret. Guilt. Rage. His markings began to burn brighter, veins of silver and white crawling down his arms like divine fire.

  “Out of my way.”

  Moon’s eyes no longer looked playful, they looked vengeful. Once Moon reached the ground, every step he took cracked the ground beneath him. The dark soldiers ran toward him to attack, but in a blink, the first wave disintegrated, torn apart by a spiral of divine light.

  The next wave charged at Moon. In an instant, Moon disappeared.

  The clouds cleared up, and moonlight shined brightly. There they saw Moon floating, in the center of the sky. The army froze, unsure of what was happening. Then a red aura started surfacing around him. After a few seconds, the moon above turned bloodshot red.

  Moon sped down to the surface, screaming and enraged.

  “You’ll pay! You’ll pay!”

  Each and every soldier he killed, he yelled something different.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there.”

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  “I should’ve felt it sooner.”

  “You trusted me, and I let you down.”

  His words weren’t for them. They were for Toru. They were for himself.

  The battlefield was silent now. Burnt. Torn. Only Moon stood, covered in cuts, glowing in red light, wings cracked and pulsing behind him. He dropped to one knee, fist in the dirt, breathing heavy.

  “You weren’t supposed to fight alone.”

  He closed his eyes. And the flicker came back, that pulse he felt in his chest earlier. Toru’s power. Weak. Scared. It echoed through him again, but this time, quieter. Like it was fading.

  “Don’t go out yet,” Moon whispered. “Don’t fade.”

  He stayed there, silent, until the sound of footsteps hit his ears. Slow. Heavy. Confident.

  Moon stood.

  Two figures walked through the smoke.

  Number Seven. Chains dragging behind him.

  Number Eight. Green eyes glowing. That same smile stretched across his face like nothing mattered.

  “Y’know,” Eight said, looking around. “They said you might be strong, but this? You’ve been busy.”

  Moon didn’t say anything.

  Seven stopped beside Eight. His chains shifted, rattling like they were alive.

  “We didn’t lay a hand on the kid,” Eight added, tilting his head. “Didn’t need to. Just heard the plan. Figured he’d be broken by now.” He smirked. “Guess he was.”

  Moon’s hand twitched. “You knew the plan.”

  Eight laughed. “We helped write it.”

  Moon’s jaw clenched. “And you laughed?”

  Eight nodded. “C’mon, man. Crownless, alone, scared? That’s comedy.”

  That was all Moon needed.

  He vanished.

  Eight’s smile shattered.

  Moon reappeared right in front of him, his fist already in motion. Boom. Eight flew back, flipping through the air, slamming into the rocks with a grunt of pain.

  Seven’s chains fired out, moving like snakes toward Moon. But Moon grabbed one mid-swing and yanked Seven forward, Seven’s face meeting Moon’s knee. His mask cracked again. He stumbled.

  “You laughed.”

  Moon appeared behind him and slammed both fists into his back, launching him into a crater.

  “You knew what they’d do.”

  He blurred again, caught Eight mid-dash, and slammed him into the ground. Over and over.

  “And I wasn’t there.”

  The blood moon above pulsed once more. Brighter. Angrier.

  Eight crawled backward, coughing, blood running down his face. “You’re pissed, I get it—”

  “No. You don’t.”

  Moon lifted his hand. The entire battlefield hummed. Like it was scared of him.

  “This isn’t for Toru.”

  “This is for me.”

  “Because I didn’t stop it.”

  Then he dropped his hand. And the light came crashing down.

  The light exploded. The earth cracked like glass. And at the center, Moon stood—eyes glowing, hands shaking. Not from fear. From how much he still wanted to hurt them.

  Eight’s body was buried in rubble, coughing hard, gasping for air.

  Seven was kneeling, barely able to rise, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. His chains twitched like they were scared to move.

  Moon walked forward. Slow, heavy steps.

  “Get up.”

  Neither of them did.

  “I said get up.”

  Seven forced himself to his feet, fists raised. He swung. Moon dodged. Then hit him once. Just once.

  A hook to the gut that cracked the ground beneath Seven’s feet. He folded. Dropped.

  Moon turned to Eight.

  Eight raised a hand, green glow trying to form in his palm. “W-wait—”

  “You had your chance.”

  Moon grabbed him by the collar and dragged him through the dirt, all the way to the edge of the crater. He lifted him with one hand.

  “You laughed.”

  He threw him. Eight’s body skipped across the stone like a rock across water, until he slammed into a pillar and didn’t move.

  Seven tried again, chains spinning.

  Moon stepped into him. Grabbed the chains. Twisted them around Seven’s neck.

  “He trusted me.”

  “And I failed him.”

  He yanked Seven in and headbutted him hard enough to break his own skin. Blood ran down his face.

  “So now you get all of it.”

  He threw Seven into the air and blasted him with a beam of red light so bright the canyon went white.

  It felt like hours before the silence returned.

  When the smoke cleared, Seven was buried in the cliffside, twitching. Eight was out cold.

  And Moon stood over them, broken and glowing, the blood moon pulsing behind him like a heartbeat.

  He wasn’t yelling anymore. He was just breathing.

  “You don’t touch him again.”

  “Or I end the rest of you.”

  He turned. Didn’t look back.

  The blood moon dimmed overhead.

  And the battlefield, once full of chaos, was quiet.

  Moon disappeared into the sky.