The world felt heavier. Not in the way it did when storm clouds gathered or when armies marched across the land, but in a way that made the very air seem to resist breathing. Every inhale burned, every exhale weighed like iron chains pressing against their ribs. The battlefield was no longer merely a scar on the earth—it was a wound infected by something far deeper, something that whispered promises of despair into the marrow of their bones.
Bolt's eyes fixed on the storm gathering at the horizon. It twisted unnaturally, black and violet tendrils of abyssal energy clawing at the heavens like the hands of something trying to drag itself out of hell. Within it, he could feel Kairos. Or rather… what had once been Kairos.
He refused to look away, though every part of him screamed to.
Behind him, his squad—the only family he had left—shifted uneasily. Their breaths were shallow, their movements rigid, as though even daring to stir too loudly might draw the abyss closer.
Akane finally broke the silence, her voice a low growl. "That's not him anymore." She clenched her fists, and flame danced across her knuckles. But even her fire quivered, betraying her. "Kairos is gone. That… thing… ate him."
"No," Darian countered, though his tone lacked the conviction it once held. He stared into the writhing storm, water rippling faintly around his feet. "I can still feel him in there. Drowned, buried—but there. Fighting." He swallowed, jaw tight. "I have to believe that."
Aether turned his face toward the wind. It carried no life, no warmth, only the hollow whisper of something unnatural. His usually calm eyes narrowed. "If he is fighting, then the abyss is winning. Nature rejects him. The sky itself recoils."
Sylva trembled, her hands pressed flat against the soil. She could feel the land itself crying beneath her palms, writhing in agony as if poisoned by the storm. "It's spreading… roots of corruption threading through the ground. If this continues, even the forests will wither." She lifted her head, meeting Bolt's eyes, her own filled with grief. "This isn't just about saving Kairos. If we fail here, the world itself suffers."
Valea's light flickered at her fingertips, faint and weak. She lifted her hands as if in prayer, but her words faltered. For the first time, her faith wavered—not in her comrades, not in her goddess, but in herself. "I want to believe light can reach him," she whispered. "But this shadow… it isn't something light was meant to touch."
Ren's blade rattled in its sheath as his hands shook. He forced them still, gripping the hilt tightly, his teeth grinding against his own fear. "If we hesitate, we're dead. That thing won't give us time to talk about faith or nature. When it comes for us, it'll come to kill." His voice cracked at the final word, and he hated himself for it.
Damian's shadows writhed around him, not out of his command, but as though agitated by the abyss itself. His normally sharp control was slipping, and it infuriated him. "It's mocking me," he snarled. "That abyss—stronger, purer, hungrier than anything I've ever touched. My power feels like a child's toy beside it." His jaw tightened, his eyes burning with rage. "I won't be humiliated by it. Not again."
Kaori stood silent at first, her eyes wide, shimmering with the aura only she could sense. Her hands shook as she pressed them against her chest. Finally, she whispered, "I can hear him." Her voice was so soft the others almost missed it. "Kairos… his spirit… it's screaming." She turned her gaze to Bolt, tears forming. "He doesn't want this. But he's being dragged down—pulled deeper and deeper. And if we wait too long, there won't be anything left of him to save."
The silence that followed was unbearable. Every word spoken by his comrades pressed into Bolt like blades, carving deeper into his doubts. He could not show them his fear, but it lingered all the same, a whisper in the back of his mind. What if they're right? What if Kairos is gone? What if this is more than even the Warborn can face?
No.
He shoved the thought aside like thunder cracking through storm clouds. He was Bolt—the Elemental Warborn, chosen not to cower but to rise. If he faltered, so would they.
He turned to his squad, letting his lightning flare across his body in a controlled surge. Sparks leapt from his shoulders, crackling through the heavy air, defiant against the abyss pressing in. "Listen to me," he said, his voice sharp, cutting through their doubts like a blade. "I don't care if Kairos has been swallowed, twisted, or broken. I don't care if that abyss thinks it can erase him. He is still our brother. And as long as even the smallest part of him remains, we fight for him."
Akane's flames brightened, feeding on his words. Darian straightened, his waters flowing steadier. Even Ren's trembling eased, his grip firming on his sword. One by one, the team's eyes hardened with resolve.
Bolt continued, his voice rising, thunderous with conviction. "The abyss wants us afraid. It wants us to believe we're powerless, that we're already defeated. But we are Celestial Tempest. Storm, fire, shadow, light—we are every element, every force of nature, and together we are unstoppable." His lightning flared, illuminating the ruins around them. "The God of War chose me for this. Not to stand alone, but to stand with all of you. And I will not let us break here."
For a moment, the storm inside him felt steady again, anchored by their belief.
But then the earth shuddered.
A deep, resonant tremor rolled beneath their feet, splitting the ground. From the distant horizon, the abyssal storm convulsed, and within it a silhouette began to form.
Bolt's breath caught.
It was Kairos. And it wasn't.
The figure towered taller than before, wreathed in black flame that bled violet light. His body was cracked with abyssal lines, glowing like molten veins, and his eyes—once filled with fire and pride—now glowed with an endless void. Every step he took bled corruption into the ground, spreading like roots of poison.
The squad froze, their hearts hammering.
Kairos lifted his head, and for a fleeting instant, his gaze pierced through the abyss, his eyes flickering with something human, something familiar.
"Help… me…"
The whisper carried across the battlefield, softer than the wind, but every member of Celestial Tempest heard it.
And then it was gone.
The abyss surged, drowning the human voice in a roar that shook the very heavens. The storm flared, swallowing the horizon whole, as Kairos—no longer fully himself—stepped into the world reborn as something monstrous.
Bolt gritted his teeth, lightning blazing around him. "Hold the line," he ordered, his voice steady despite the dread crawling down his spine. "We won't lose him. Not to this."
But deep inside, he knew the abyss wasn't finished revealing itself.
The real battle had not yet begun.