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Before Sam could step into the room, Rosa raised a hand to stop her. With a solemn shake of her head, Rosa gripped her spear tightly and moved ahead, her posture defensive yet graceful. The room beyond the doorway unfolded before her as she cautiously stepped inside. It was an expansive hall, structured like an ancient temple yet exuding an aura of otherworldliness. Intricate carvings adorned the stone walls, illuminated faintly by the eerie glow of blue crystal veins running through the temple's structure. The centerpiece of the hall was a towering statue of a deity situated on an elevated platform at the far end of the room.
The statue depicted a regal figure draped in an ancient toga, their stern gaze carved with an expression of divine authority. In one hand, the deity held a sword—its blade seemingly aflame with a faint azure light—and in the other, an ankh, glowing faintly as though pulsing with life. The statue itself was crafted from the same luminous blue crystal as the veins running through the walls, emanating a radiant energy that seemed to hum softly in the stillness. Intricate reliefs depicting battles, celestial figures, and scenes of cosmic significance decorated its base, each etched with painstaking detail.
To the right of the statue, an ornate table stood, seemingly reserved for offerings. The table bore remnants of long-since dried flowers, aged coins, and the faint residue of ash from incense. An incense altar nearby exuded faint trails of multicolored smoke that drifted lazily upward, merging with the soft luminescence of the crystals. Despite the otherworldly beauty of the place, there was no immediate sign of life or danger.
Rosa gestured for Sam to follow. Reluctantly, Sam entered, her eyes widening as she took in the sheer scale and intricacy of the temple. Her gaze was drawn to the incense altar, where the drifting colors seemed to swirl with a hypnotic rhythm. They moved as though alive, an unseen force guiding their patterns. The colors seemed to whisper to her senses, compelling her attention.
"A temple," Trini muttered, her voice hushed with awe. Sam's gaze shifted to the statue of the deity, and she felt a tug deep within her chest—a pull she couldn't ignore. It was the same sensation that had drawn her to this place in the first place. As if in response, the birthmark on her wrist—a strange, ancient symbol she had never understood—ceased its faint glow, dimming as if its purpose had been fulfilled.
Sam's presence unsettled the others. The group of mundane humans who had inexplicably ended up in this mysterious place cast her wary glances. Fear and suspicion flickered in their eyes. To them, Sam's connection to this temple—her ability to open its sealed doors and the strange symbol on her wrist—was unnerving. Even Sam couldn't deny how abnormal it all felt, though she tried her best to ignore it.
Her attention was caught by a second table near the base of the statue. Unlike the offering table, this one held a stone tablet. Its surface was etched with runic markings, glowing faintly as though imbued with dormant energy. The runes were intricate, forming a language that seemed both ancient and alien.
"Those are AurenIdril's ancient runic alphabets," Trini said, her tone grave. Her words carried the weight of understanding, though Sam had no idea what an 'AurenIdril' was. Her focus remained locked on the markings, drawn to their strange and unearthly aura.
"What are they doing here?" Rosa asked, her voice tinged with unease.
Sam's fingers hovered above the tablet as she murmured, "I… I don't know." Despite being inexplicably drawn to this place, she couldn't explain why or how she knew she was meant to be here. The runes seemed to call to her, their faint glow intensifying as her hand finally made contact with the surface. The moment her fingers brushed the stone, the runes flared to life, their glow spreading outward in rippling waves of light. The markings shifted and rearranged themselves as if responding to her touch. A deep, resonant crack thundered through the hall, the vibrations rattling the walls.
"Sam, get away from it!" Rosa shouted, rushing forward to pull Sam back. As she did, the glowing runes lifted from the tablet, swirling upward into the air and forming a vortex of dark energy above them. The swirling mass expanded, black tendrils spiraling outward as a circular void opened at its center. The temperature in the room plummeted, and an oppressive pressure filled the air.
From the void, two objects shot out in opposite directions, crashing into the ground with bone-rattling force. The impact sent shockwaves through the temple, knocking the mundane humans off their feet and kicking up a dense cloud of dust. Rosa tightened her grip on Sam, steadying both of them as the tremors subsided.
Through the settling dust, Sam's eyes locked onto the figure closest to her. It lay crumpled on the left side of the hall, partially obscured by debris. The faint outline of a humanoid form became visible, though its features remained hidden within the haze. A raspy cough broke the silence, followed by a string of muffled curses.
Sam's breath caught in her throat. Whatever it was, it was alive. As the dust began to clear, the figure's silhouette sharpened. Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat growing louder as the scene before her slowly came into focus. She took a cautious step forward, her mind racing with possibilities. And then, as the last remnants of dust faded away, Sam found herself staring at…
"It's you," Leonard Haravok said, his voice low but clear, eyes narrowing as his gaze landed on Sam. The golden glow of his irises flickered faintly, reflecting the light of the crystal-veined walls.
Sam froze. Her breath caught in her throat as recognition crashed into her like a wave. It was him—the Sun Prince. The figure she'd been sketching for as long as she could remember, etched into the margins of notebooks and dreams alike. And now he stood before her, real and solid, wearing the very outfit she'd drawn countless times: a black leather trench coat, open just enough to reveal a bronze-hued chest beneath a buttoned-down white shirt, its collar loose and rakish. A fitted black jacket completed the look, giving him a presence both regal and dangerous. His golden hair shimmered like firelight, framing a face too perfect to be mundane. His eyes—brilliant, crystalline blue—seemed to echo the temple's radiant glow.
Leon took a moment, scanning the room with sharp efficiency. His expression sharpened.
"An Echo Field," he muttered. "So that's where you all disappeared to."
"Leon!" Rosa's voice rang out, surprise and irritation twisted together in a confused joy. Despite the animosity between them, the sight of him brought a flicker of hope to her face.
Leon turned, acknowledging her with a slight tilt of his head. "So, you're here too."
Sam's gaze darted between them, bewildered by the familiarity they shared. "You know him?" she asked.
"He's… complicated," Rosa said, her eyes still fixed on Leon. "Did you just come from the outside?"
"Yes," he replied, already turning away. "And I have business to finish."
A sudden, monstrous roar tore through the hall. The sound wasn't just loud—it was primal, vibrating through bone and soul. The mundane survivors screamed and fell over themselves in terror as something massive stirred in the dust behind Leon.
When the haze cleared, Sam's heart stopped.
It was a monster in every sense of the word—an abomination. Eight feet tall, its crimson-streaked fur bristled like razors. Its simian frame was hunched and monstrous, encased in blackened armor fused into its flesh. Its eyes were pits of abyssal darkness, voids that swallowed light. The air around it warped. It didn't just stand there—it pressed down on reality. Sam felt the weight of it immediately. Breathing became a struggle. Her chest burned.
She looked to Henry, only to find him collapsed on the ground, froth bubbling from his lips. Others around them had already succumbed to the pressure, their bodies limp, overcome by the oppressive aura.
"Is that... an Abomination?" Rosa whispered, her voice cracking. It was the first time Sam had seen true fear in the Paladin's eyes.
"Yes," Leon replied, without turning. "So stay out of my way."
He walked forward with unhurried confidence, each step defying the creature's pressure. The Abomination snarled and responded by releasing more of its aura. The spiritual gravity intensified. Sam dropped to her knees, her limbs trembling. Her instincts screamed at her to flee, but something deep within her resisted. Something ancient. Something... hers.
She crawled toward Rosa and Henry, her fingers clawing against the temple floor as her legs refused to move properly. Rosa remained half-upright—one knee grounded, the other trembling under the strain.
The Abomination lunged.
Sam saw the blur of its motion—the impossible speed it moved with despite its size. Its arm extended mid-air, the skin on its wrist peeling back like a sheath to reveal a spear-like bone, gleaming with deadly intent. It was coming for her.
Leon moved.
He met the blow mid-flight, his fist colliding with the beast's bone spear in a blast of force that shook the very foundations of the temple. The creature was hurled upward, crashing into the ceiling with an ear-splitting crack. Before it could recover, Leon blurred again—two more punches hammered into its skull, each strike followed by a concussive shockwave that made the walls tremble and threw Sam off balance.
She landed hard, breath knocked from her lungs. Desperately, she crawled backward, dragging herself to where Rosa was bracing herself beside Henry.
The monster didn't fall.
It staggered, blood dripping from its skull—but it didn't fall. Its hatred burned brighter than its wounds. It had taken the blows. Not without damage—but without defeat. And it wasn't focused on Leon anymore. Its black, abyssal eyes locked onto Sam. Leon's eyes narrowed. He saw it too. The Abomination's intent was clear. It wasn't here to fight. It was here for her.
"You're not getting past me," Leon muttered, his voice low and resolute, a threat cloaked in steel.
The Abomination answered with a roar that rattled the marrow. Its intent was no longer veiled—death was coming.
Sam stood frozen, breath caught in her throat, eyes wide as the battle ignited before her. The clash between Leon Haravok—the Sun Prince—and the beast was not just a fight. It was war made flesh.
"What's the matter?" Leon taunted, his voice calm, detached—but beneath the calm was a razor's edge. His fingers flexed, knuckles cracking like dry twigs, and he rolled his shoulders as if brushing off the wind, not the fury of a monster.
Before him, the Abomination loomed, unfazed by the strikes it had endured. It stood like a god of ruin—eight feet of rage encased in sinew and warped armor, its crimson fur streaked with its own blood and Leon's defiance.
"Palaaadiiiinnn…" the Beast hissed, its voice a slurry of guttural venom. Then it lunged—no warning, no pause.
The air itself seemed to fracture as it surged forward, claws like cleavers carving through the space Leon had just vacated. He moved with instinctive grace, his feet gliding across the shattered crystal floor, evading with inches to spare. The tiles beneath him cracked and buckled from the force of the near-miss.
Then came the kick—an explosive strike that tore a furrow through the floor, sending glittering shards into the air like weaponized glass. Leon met it with a raised leg, blocking the blow with precision and countering in the same motion. His fists struck like twin comets—two jabs to the creature's chin, quick as lightning and just as merciless.
The sound of impact echoed like thunder beneath the temple dome. The Beast staggered, black blood erupting from its maw. Fangs clattered to the floor like shattered ivory. It growled low, a sound not of pain, but insulted wrath. Then, with a sneer that stretched its mangled lips, it spat the blood at Leon's feet and hurled itself forward once more.
Leon's expression didn't change. No anger. No panic. Only focus.
The Abomination's arms came down in a brutal arc, twin sledgehammers meant to crush. Leon crossed his arms to absorb the impact—and the strike landed. The ground split beneath him, a shockwave blasting outward like a concussive ring of destruction.
Sam was thrown through the air, the world spinning around her. Her breath was ripped away by the force, her body helpless. Before she could crash into the far wall, Rosa was there—fast, desperate. She caught Sam midair and twisted, taking the brunt of the fall, shielding her with armored limbs as fragments of crystal pelted them like razors.
The temple erupted into chaos.
Blows fell like falling stars—relentless, deafening. Every strike was a meteor, every clash a detonation. Leon danced between death and dominance, his body a blur of motion. Where he struck, black blood geysered; where he moved, the Beast missed by a breath. But the Abomination gave no ground. Each of its attacks was a battering storm, each miss followed by a dozen more.
Then came the eruption.
A burst of raw force detonated in the heart of the temple as the two collided once again. Chunks of crystal were sent hurtling through the air, spears of jagged death with no target but anyone unfortunate enough to stand nearby.
Sam watched, paralyzed, as one such shard—longer than a sword—sliced through the air, cleaving through fleeing bodies with horrific ease. Screams filled the temple, cut short by wet, final sounds. Blood sprayed in arcs. Limbs tumbled.
Rosa yanked Sam back, dragging her behind a collapsed pillar just as another blast of debris scythed across the battlefield.
"Stay low!" Rosa barked, eyes scanning, body coiled.
Sam could only nod, her heart pounding in her ears, her limbs trembling from the aftershocks of dread. All she could do was survive—and watch the Sun Prince battle a monster born of nightmares.
"This," Rosa said, her voice a harsh whisper edged with dread as she dragged Sam across the crumbling floor, "is what happens when an Ascendant and an Infernal collide."
The words hit Sam harder than the tremors shaking the temple. Her heart thundered in her chest as she glimpsed the chaos around her—survivors screaming, scrabbling through debris, diving behind shattered altars and cracked pillars for cover that wouldn't last.
Leon was a blur of lethal grace—his body weaving between ruin and claw, a tempest given form. His strikes were too fast to fully follow, each motion packed with raw, coiled precision. He wasn't just fighting. He was dissecting. Calculating.
The Abomination roared, a sound that rolled through the temple like the roar of a breaking mountain. But Leon only smiled—just a tilt of his lips, something caught between savage thrill and cold indifference. It was the look of someone playing with a threat that had already failed to be entertaining.
Then Leon vanished.
Sam blinked, her breath catching. One heartbeat he was leaning against a pillar, the next—gone. No glow, no flash, no displacement of air. Just absence. And then—
A crack like shattering thunder as he reappeared at the beast's flank, fist already buried in its side. The creature's howl was immediate, visceral, its ribs caving under the blow. The force of it sent out a concentric wave that cracked the ground like ice under a hammer. Leon did not pause. He became a storm of fists and elbows, each movement a weapon, each strike a sentence of execution.
The Beast staggered under the barrage, roaring in protest, its massive arms flailing in retaliation—but it couldn't catch him. Leon's strikes were sharp as lightning and just as fast. Sam felt the entire floor quake beneath their clash, and around her, survivors cried out, shielding themselves from falling crystal and stone. One wrong hit from either combatant and they'd all be dust.
Sam's hands gripped Rosa's shoulder tighter. Her mind couldn't shake the thought now clamped around her like a vice: If this fight continues... no one here survives it.
Boom!
A shockwave detonated across the temple like a divine hammer smashing against the world. The sound was apocalyptic, a brutal crack that split the air and sent a rush of concussive wind barreling outward. Statues collapsed. Tiles shattered. A fresco along the ceiling disintegrated into dust.
The Abomination, glowing eyes blazing with bestial rage, let out a monstrous scream. It thrust its arm into the fractured floor and ripped out the remnants of a broken column, veins bulging with grotesque strength. With a howl, it hurled the stone monolith at Leon like a missile.
Leon didn't flinch. He caught it—caught it—with one hand, muscles tensing, feet grinding against the floor. Then, with a flick of godlike power, he tore the stone in two. It cracked like thunder, fragments hurtling away.
He kept one jagged half.
Then swung it like a cleaver.
The blow connected with a sound like a siege weapon meeting flesh. The Abomination staggered, howling as the stone struck its torso, sending it crashing back through one of the support arches. Dust erupted, obscuring them both.
Leon stepped from the settling debris, exhaling slowly, his expression unreadable.
He wasn't even breathing hard.
The truth was now evident. He'd never been fighting at full strength. Each move, each blow—measured. Studied. He had been testing it, as one might probe a fortress wall before choosing where to break it.
And the verdict?
The Beast had already lost.
"Disappointing," Leon muttered under his breath, flexing his fingers.
Golden light gathered in his palm—tiny sparks of radiant energy that shimmered like molten stardust. The air around him warped, thickening, every mote of light drawing inward toward his hand. The energy coalesced into a blade—a curved, single-edged weapon that gleamed with crackling electricity. Its shape shimmered, seeming half-real, as though forged from light and will.
Leon gripped it, and the temple felt the shift. Even the Beast sensed it.
The Abomination growled low, its body hunched, claws extended. It lunged.
Leon moved.
A thunderclap of movement.
The next second, he was in front of the Beast, midair, blade raised.
Then he brought it down.
He moved like lightning, his blade slashing through the air with crackling arcs of yellow electricity. The sacred steel shimmered with divine wrath, each swing accompanied by a thunderous snap of displaced air. The Abomination, for all its brute strength, was no longer fast enough. It raised its thick, armor-plated arms in a desperate guard, but the blade cleaved through them like silk soaked in oil. Black ichor erupted in violent spurts, the foul liquid sizzling as it struck the sacred ground.
The monster's hideous armor cracked with each blow, splintering, crumbling. Plates fell away in chunks, revealing muscle laced with writhing black sinew. It howled, enraged, but it was already too late. Leon was everywhere at once. His strikes came in flurries, carving burning gashes across the creature's hide—deliberate, surgical, each movement painting a death sentence across its towering frame.
The hall became a war zone of blurred motion and destructive grace. Leon danced—no, hunted—with ruthless elegance, every motion a predator's reply to the dying thrash of its prey. The Beast reeled backward as Leon unleashed a vertical slash that cut deep into its shoulder, then spun and slammed his blade in a diagonal arc that sent the creature crashing through a row of shattered columns. The explosion of stone and dust shrouded them briefly in a maelstrom of ruin.
In the far corner of the collapsing temple, Rosa gritted her teeth, sweat streaming down her brow. With Trini and Callum at her side, they formed a barrier—a glowing green dome pulsing like a living heart. Survivors huddled beneath it, shielding their faces from the concussive blasts as debris battered the shield. Tyrnr channeled a series of runes across the edge, reinforcing it. Callum stood near the opening, ready to defend should anything breach.
Rosa glanced toward the battlefield, eyes narrowing at Leon's glowing form. Her gut twisted—not from fear, but from memory. She'd seen that aura before. The golden light that now wreathed Leon had once belonged to a war god. And now, it was reborn in him.
Leon let go.
The golden radiance around him flared, bursting outward like a sunrise at war with the night. It clung to his skin and danced across his blade, his entire being luminous with purpose. The warmth of it pulsed across the battlefield, parting the dark like a tide pushing against a rotting shore.
Sam felt it immediately.
The fear that had knotted in her chest loosened. Her trembling hands steadied. Her eyes lifted. The light didn't just shine—it soothed, wrapping around her like a protective embrace. It felt like hope given form.
But then the roar came.
A deep, primal shriek that fractured the stillness and slammed into them like a blade forged of sound. Sam cried out, dropping to her knees, her hands flying to her ears as the force of the Beast's rage vibrated through the marrow of her bones. Her vision blurred. The air itself seemed to grow heavier, darker, wrong.
The Abomination crouched, its entire frame compressing, muscles coiling like springs beneath burning fur. Then it leapt—an eruption of pure fury—straight toward Leon.
Leon met the charge.
He didn't dodge.
He ran into it.
Their clash was cataclysmic.
Steel met flesh in a blinding explosion of force. The impact created a circular shockwave that tore the temple floor apart, the blast hollowing the ground and sending chunks of stone, crystal, and shattered columns hurtling in all directions. Screams echoed behind the barrier as debris slammed against the green dome, threatening to crack it.
Sam shielded her face as jagged fragments ripped past her, the light of the battle illuminating the smoke-filled air like lightning in a thundercloud.
Leon's blade cut deep—but the Beast was faster than expected. Mid-air, it twisted, its massive arm sweeping in a devastating arc. Its claws sliced through space, and Leon couldn't turn in time.
The backhand struck him like a battering ram.
He flew—his body a streak of golden light crashing into the ground with a bone-shaking impact. The crystal under him splintered, a crater forming where he landed. Blood misted from his lips as he hit, the sound sharp and wet.
The Abomination didn't wait.
It lunged again, snarling with unrestrained hatred. It landed atop him with the force of a meteor, one massive leg driving into Leon's gut, then followed with a hammering punch that split the floor in a deafening eruption. Stone and blood exploded outward.
Rosa gasped, her hands faltering on the barrier.
Sam screamed.
But when the dust settled...
Leon was standing.
His chest heaved with exertion, blood painting a crimson streak across the side of his face. His coat was torn, revealing glowing marks beneath—sigils of light inscribed across his skin like ancient blessings. His aura had dimmed, but not broken.
His blade was still in hand.
He raised it slowly, leveling it toward the Beast, and in that moment, amidst ruin and wreckage, Leon Haravok looked less like a warrior and more like a wrathful god.
"Not enough," he murmured. "You'll need more than rage to kill me."
And the final round began.
It turned—its void-like eyes locking onto Sam with feral intent. The suffocating pressure of its aura crashed down on her chest, forcing the air from her lungs. She staggered back, her pulse pounding. Rosa stepped between them, stance firm despite the strain on her face. Sweat streaked down her temple, but her gaze never wavered.
The green barrier flickered, fractures spidering across its surface. The Beast raised a massive fist and slammed it down.
The dome shuddered violently. The impact sent a shockwave rippling through the air. Callum and Trini cried out, blood trickling from their mouths as the magical strain wracked their bodies. Trini collapsed to her knees, gasping. Rosa held steady, arms glowing as she fed more energy into the shield.
"Stay back!" she shouted, voice ragged but unbroken.
The Abomination reared for another strike.
"Must bring you," it snarled, its voice a guttural rasp. "Can't touch Asha'Yee… but Star-Scorched... His Majesty wants... your presence—"
A golden flash interrupted the sentence.
Leon appeared in a streak of radiance, his blade cleaving through the beast's extended arm. Black blood burst into the air as the severed limb tumbled to the floor. Leon wasted no time—his foot slammed into the creature's chest, launching it backward in a thunderous crash that shattered what was left of the temple's wall.
"Time to finish this," he said, tone light—but there was nothing light in his eyes.
Sam stared, heart twisting. Leon looked untouchable—no bruises, no wounds—but there was wear beneath the surface. His chest rose faster now. Sweat clung to his jawline, and his smile was too wide, too unhinged. She could feel it—he wasn't just fighting.
He was enjoying it.
And it scared her.
Leon grinned, the madness glinting behind his eyes. "More," he whispered to himself. "Make it worth it."
With a flick of his wrists, two more golden blades materialized, humming with condensed mana. He spun them effortlessly, arcs of light illuminating the debris-strewn street. Then he surged forward—nothing but a blur.
The Beast roared as it rose, its aura congealing into a writhing shell of dark armor. Its one remaining arm glowed with sinister energy as it lashed out.
"Paladin won't let me do my job!" it shrieked. "Wasn't supposed to harm the girl—but you—I'll feast on your corpse!"
Leon laughed—a breathless, euphoric sound. "Then stop talking and entertain me, Great Ape!"
They collided.
Leon struck first, his blade slicing toward the Beast's throat. The creature ducked low, retaliating with a vicious jab. Leon parried with his second sword, deflecting the blow in a spray of sparks. The two exchanged a flurry of blows—one a storm of relentless rage, the other a whirlwind of honed destruction.
Blade and claw clashed, each impact ringing like thunder.
Leon's movements became more ruthless, his energy flaring with each strike. His swords carved through the Abomination's guard—gashes opening across the monster's hide, trails of smoking ichor marking every cut. He flowed like a dancer, every step a pivot between devastation and grace.
Then came the final blow.
Leon vaulted upward, blades drawn behind him in a glowing arc.
With a cry of fury and exultation, he brought them down.
One sword cut deep into the creature's side—the other severed its right arm entirely.
The Abomination howled, black blood spewing across the floor. The scream tore through the ruins like a banshee's wail, rattling the very earth. The temple trembled beneath the fury of its death throes.
And Leon stood before it, blades lowered, glowing, victorious—yet still hungry for more.
The two combatants blurred through the air, moving faster than Sam's eyes could track. Flashes of golden light clashed with streaks of writhing shadow, warping the space around them. Amidst it all, Leon's laughter rang out—wild, unhinged, echoing like thunder in a crumbling cathedral.
Where is he? Sam's eyes scanned desperately—then found him, not on the ground but above, suspended in the air as though the laws of reality bent around him. He stood sideways on nothing, golden aura blazing around him like a miniature sun.
Then he moved.
Leon launched from the invisible plane, spinning midair like a divine storm. A wave of golden energy spiraled outward with his motion, ripping through the crystal floor in a wide arc. The Beast screamed—then vanished within the burst of light. The explosion rocked the temple. Heat seared Sam's skin. Rubble and shattered crystal rained down.
But the Abomination endured.
Its armor shattered, its body leaking black ichor—but rage kept it standing. Its hulking form surged forward, cloaked in a corona of black lightning. In a blur, it grabbed Leon mid-dash and slammed him into the wall—once, twice—each hit a booming shockwave.
Leon's laughter faded, replaced by a breathless grin.
The Beast didn't stop. Dark energy built around its fists, coalescing into a sphere of swirling lightning. The power radiating from it made Sam's teeth ache. The temple shook, the air vibrating with charged malice.
"D...i...e!" it howled, voice distorted by hate.
It lunged, the crackling sphere growing brighter, denser—an executioner's blow.
Leon didn't move.
He stood in the heart of the maelstrom, golden eyes glowing. A quiet smirk tugged at his lips.
"No," he said. "You die."
He whispered the incantation:[Hyperion: Chaotic Field – Crimson Pressure].
Time froze.
Then—eruption.
A crimson beam exploded from Leon, a spear of star-born fury. The world ignited. The hall split apart as searing light consumed the Abomination. The sheer force crushed everything—walls, pillars, even air. Sam fell to her knees, shielding her face. The heat pressed down like a collapsing sun.
She couldn't see—but she could hear the Beast's final scream, drowned in the roar of annihilation. And then—silence. Ash drifted. The air still trembled, but the storm had passed.
Leon stood alone in the ruins, bathed in crimson light, his breath shallow, but his blade still glowing.
When the light finally faded, a heavy silence settled over the ruins. Sam slowly lowered her trembling hands, breath shaky, heart thundering. The Abomination was gone—completely erased. Not even a corpse remained. Only drifting ash, dissolving midair.
The hall, now a skeletal husk of its former grandeur, echoed with the stillness of aftermath.
Rosa dismissed the barrier with a sharp gesture, her spear humming as its glow dissipated. She yanked it from the cracked floor, scanning the destruction with narrowed eyes.
Sam's gaze locked onto Leon.
He stood alone in the heart of the ruin, bathed in the lingering crimson glow. His posture was calm—almost indifferent. He ran a hand through his tousled golden hair, as though brushing off the residue of a minor inconvenience. There was no blood on him, no wound in sight, but the pale hue of his skin and the sweat on his brow betrayed the toll the battle had taken.
And still, he looked victorious.
Leon's sharp gaze swept across the wreckage. His expression remained unreadable as his eyes briefly lingered on the fallen—those too slow to escape the shockwaves of his power. Then, without remorse, he pulled a flask from his storage band and took a slow, measured sip. His attention shifted to the statue above—the crystal deity, untouched by the carnage, still glowing faintly with sacred power.
"Leon!" Rosa called, jogging toward him. Behind her, Callum limped upright, Henry supporting a battered Trini.
"I see you're all still breathing," Leon said dryly, eyes flicking over them with casual detachment.
Trini coughed, eyeing him. "You're a Pleiadian, aren't you?"
Leon offered a small smirk.
That word hit Sam like a thunderclap. Pleiadian. It explained everything—his flawless appearance, the supernatural aura, the inhuman strength. He wasn't just beautiful. He wasn't human.
"Leon's a friend of the Golden Dawn," Rosa said quickly, intercepting. "If he's here, then he's got a way out."
Leon raised a hand. A silver blade appeared with a shimmer. He sliced downward, and the air itself split open—a glowing rift forming in the space before them.
"You can leave through here," he said simply.
But Sam didn't move.
The pull was stronger now—an invisible thread wrapped around her soul, dragging her toward the ancient table. Her feet moved of their own accord, drawn to the tablet like metal to a magnet.
"Sam, wait—" Rosa moved to stop her, but Leon's hand shot out, catching Rosa's wrist.
"You know what this place is," Leon said, voice sharp.
Rosa froze. Her eyes widened. "An Echo Field…"
"An Echo Field of an Awakening Temple," Leon confirmed, his tone low with gravity.
But Sam barely heard them. The symbol on her arm pulsed, glowing in sync with the tablet's eerie light. Her hand reached forward without thought. The moment her palm touched the stone, green light erupted in a blinding surge. Her strength vanished in an instant. She dropped to her knees, body too weak to stand. Darkness bled into her vision, thick and absolute. The last thing she saw was Leon kneeling beside her, his expression unreadable. His arms slid around her gently, lifting her with ease. As her consciousness slipped away, Sam surrendered to the pull into the unknown.