The sky tore open.
A deafening roar echoed through the heavens as Law raised his hand, eyes glowing with a blinding void light.
The air twisted, the clouds spiraled like a whirlpool, and above the ruined city — a colossal meteor began to form.
A mountain of flame and stone, wrapped in divine energy, glowing with the fury of annihilation. The very planet trembled under its presence.
Law (calmly, almost whispering):
"Now died."
Then—he dropped it.
The meteor screamed as it fell, burning through the clouds, splitting the atmosphere apart.
Every sound vanished for a heartbeat.
Then—
BOOOOOOM!
A blinding light swallowed the horizon.
The explosion that followed was beyond imagination — a tidal wave of fire and energy that erased the landscape, ripping skyscrapers apart and turning the city into molten ash.
The ground cracked open, entire districts vanished in seconds.
Shockwaves tore through the air like godly fists. Buildings folded inward; vehicles melted; steel beams rained from the sky like shooting stars.
And through it all—
the screams of dying soldiers and warriors filled the void, silenced one after another in the inferno.
When the light finally dimmed, the world was unrecognizable.
The once-mighty city was a wasteland of smoke and ruin, glowing with embers and death.
Amid the devastation, only a handful of figures stirred — Eve, Adam, Zadkiel, Seraphina, Don, Kai, and Dr. Jin — each scattered across different parts of the shattered city.
Their bodies were battered, their clothes torn, but not a single one of them was dead.
Adam's divine aura still faintly shimmered across the battlefield — the last trace of the protection he had cast in the instant before the meteor struck. His power had saved them… but not the others.
Thousands of fallen warriors — both from the Frontier and the Shadow Empire — lay in silent heaps of ash.
The air was thick with the scent of burned metal and blood.
The once-living city now whispered like a graveyard.
Eve, coughing and bloodied, pushed rubble off her body and looked up at the sky, her red eyes reflecting the fading inferno.
Her voice trembled — half rage, half despair.
Eve: "He… killed everyone."
Far in the distance, Law hovered in the air — untouched by the blast.
The meteor's smoke parted around him.
Law (coldly): "Fitting, isn't it? A world reborn… of my destiny."
He spread his arms wide, his voice echoing through the ruins like the decree of a god.
Law: "You survived… good. I'd hate for the end of creation to be lonely."
The survivors, scattered but breathing, each began to rise — eyes burning with fury, grief, and defiance.
The dust settled inside the broken corridor and the scent of burning incense and blood mixed thickly in the air.
Broken marble angels lay scattered across the floor — wings destroy, eyes hollow — as Zadkiel slowly pushed himself up from the rubble. His armor was dented, his divine blade chipped, but his will remained.
He glanced around, disoriented, then froze.
The stained-glass windows… the gold-lined pillars… the cracked altar at the end of the hall.
Zadkiel (quietly): "This… this is the Palace Church…"
His voice echoed against the hollow stone walls — a place he hadn't seen since the days when he still believed in redemption.
Then came footsteps.
Slow, deliberate, walking down the corridor.
A soft, melodic hum followed — cold and beautiful, like a hymn of judgment.
Zadkiel turned, his body tense.
From the smoke at the far end of the hall, a figure emerged — elegant and composed, with long white hair cascading over dark armor, her weapon gleaming like liquid silver.
Victoria.
Her crimson eyes glowed faintly in the dim light, her lips curved into a faint smile — one that was neither kind nor cruel, just knowing.
She stopped a few paces away, tilting her head slightly.
Victoria (softly): "Hello, Zadkiel."
The silence that followed was suffocating,
Zadkiel's grip tightened on his weapon, his gaze steady — not with affection, not with regret, but with cold understanding that
they had once fought side by side under Law's command, bringing ruin to countless worlds. But now… here, in the ruins of another fallen city, they stood on opposite sides of the same sin.
No words came from Zadkiel.
Only silence — and the weight of everything they had destroyed.
Victoria's smile widened until it split her features — predatory, gleeful.
She stepped closer, the ruined church swallowing sound beneath the thunder of her pulse.
Victoria: "Here we are again. Just me and you, right?"
Zadkiel said nothing; his face was a storm compressed into still stone.
Victoria: "What with that serious expression, you better be prepared because soon…" Her voice dropped to a whisper that tasted like venom.
As she spoke, her hair bled from white into burning red; her eyes blackened at the rims and flared a hellish crimson.
Victoria: "Your last hour strikes."
Silence answered. Zadkiel's jaw worked; rage pooled behind his eyes like coiled lightning.
Victoria: "You should prepare to just die, like all your family — they had a really great time"
Victoria continued, amusement twisting her tone into something cruel.
Zadkiel remained mute, only an angry line on his face.
Victoria: "But guys like you are always just fools"
She taunted, stepping into a fighting stance as her weapon sang in the dim light.
Victoria: "Come at me, try to kill me too — let's go now. Let this fight be fun. Let's go, just another killer."
Victoria's blade met Zadkiel's bare hand first and then he turned her wrist, forcing her arm back.
She twisted, grinning wild, letting the bone snap sideways with a wet crack just so she could swing her other blade into his ribs.
Zadkiel didn't cry out. He only struck her jaw with the back of his knuckles, sending her spinning through a cracked pillar.
The marble exploded around her — and when the dust settled, she was standing again.
Neck broken. Head hanging wrong.
Laughing.
"Remember this feeling?" she whispered, voice warping as her spine twisted back into place with grotesque pops.
"The crusades across the Ninth Sphere? When we burned that city and the sky turned purple from all the souls screaming?"
Zadkiel's eyes flickered — memory smashing into the present like thunder:
A world ablaze. Children turned to ash before their mothers' eyes.
Victoria dancing in firelight, drenched in blood, smiling at him like it was romance.
Another memory — colder:
Zadkiel walking through rivers of corpses with no emotion, as if slaughter were routine.
His expression then — empty.
A hollow man.
Back in the present, Victoria lunged — and he met her.
Sword to hand. Blade to bone.
She carved his shoulder — he tore her throat open with his bare fingers.
She gurgled, collapsed, then healed instantly and slashed him across the stomach — flesh parting like silk.
Their boots crushed skulls of the dead beneath the rubble, reminders of how many they'd people they killed.
"Don't pretend you were better than me," Victoria gasped through a manic smile, licking shared blood from her lips.
"We killed millions together. Women, men, children — whole civilizations screaming your name in terror."
She caressed his cheek with her blood-soaked hand, almost lovingly.
"I was at your side while we butchered creation for our dream. You wanted to erase all life… and I wanted you."
His fist speared through her abdomen.
Her smile widened.
He ripped his hand free — she leaned forward, letting her wound press against him as if it were intimacy.
"And you were beautiful then," she breathed.
"Cold. Perfect. A god who never felt anything."
He hurled her across the nave — she crashed into sacred statues, shattering angels like brittle bones.
She stood again declaring her love for him.
Victoria: "No one else will ever love the monster you were," she whispered, hair wild, voice trembling with devotion and madness.
"Only I saw you. Only I understood you. And only I will break you."
Zadkiel's eyes trembled for the first time — not with fear, but memory:
His wife smiling beneath lantern light
His children laughing
Their screams
The burning village
His heart turning to ice
Victoria's shadow beside him
Their hands stained with stars and blood.
"Victoria," he murmured, voice low with a crack of humanity he didn't want to feel.
She froze — insanity shifting into something almost gentle.
"Say it again," she begged.
"Say my name like you used to, when we painted worlds red with the blood of the people you killed."
He didn't answer.
Instead, he rushed her — they collided like cosmic beasts, fists and blades and fury.
Blood spraying. Bones breaking.
Frosted breath and burning rage.
Tears mixing with gore neither would admit to shedding.
And when Victoria's skull caved under his final blow — she collapsed—
Only to rise seconds later, bones knitting, eyes burning devotion and cruelty.
"You can't kill me," she whispered, eyes shimmering with love and madness.
"I will always come back to you."
Zadkiel's breath trembled.
For the first time in centuries— he looked afraid.
And very alone.