Scene: Beneath the Avian Tree – Reflection in Airious
The celestial skies of Airious shimmered in gradients of peace—tones of silver, teal, and gold rippling across the horizon. Clouds flowed like silk across the lands, whispering songs of old. The wind itself hummed in harmony with the very heartbeats of its protectors.
Yet beneath a timeless tree known as the **"Awe Root"—**a towering sentinel with translucent leaves and bark etched with ancient runes—one protector sat in silent discord.
Traxis.
Knees drawn slightly up. Forearms resting on them.
His eyes not on the sky, but inward. Into the void of thought.
All the suns he'd erased. All the glances his fellow Airiens gave him after each battlefield.
Not evil. But not embraced.
The tree above rustled softly.
A presence joined him. Gently. Like moonlight stepping on glass.
Elegia, his wife—adorned in robes of violet-gold trim, Avian sigils faintly glowing at her wrists—sat beside him, one leg folded beneath the other.
She didn't speak at first. Just turned her head with that look.
The one that said, "Are you okay?"
No words. But full of meaning.
---
Traxis exhaled through his nose. Then nodded once.
> Traxis:
"People think I'm losing control.
They don't realize what we're up against.
The Vortex rebels don't hesitate. They don't feel.
They weaponize fear and chaos—and I meet them on their terms."
He looked at his own hands. Fingers twitching with invisible threads of Avian energy.
> "I don't like destroying the suns.
I don't crave violence.
But peace isn't a blanket, Elegia. It's a sword in disguise.
And I will not let the cosmos burn while we debate morality around a tea table."
---
Elegia leaned back slightly, her gaze upward, to the leaf-veiled heavens.
> Elegia (softly):
"Avia is truth.
It's flexible, yes. Flowing. It doesn't judge by labels—'right' or 'wrong'—like we do.
But it doesn't follow destruction blindly either.
It amplifies who you are… even if that self is flawed, stubborn, or bruised."
She turned to him.
> "You know what's strange about Avia?"
"It doesn't abandon someone for breaking protocol.
It doesn't flicker when you carve spears or crush suns.
Because as long as you're being real...
…it believes in you."
---
Traxis' eyes narrowed, confused but not offended.
> Traxis:
"So you're saying it's okay that I've gone this far?
That I keep going?"
---
Elegia smiled, brushing back a strand of wind-tousled hair.
> Elegia:
"I'm saying… know why you go that far.
Own it.
Because once you do, it's no longer about being right or wrong.
It becomes about being you.
And if your 'you' is a storm, then let it be a storm with purpose.
Don't destroy suns because the rebels provoke you.
Destroy them only if your truth says it will save lives—not crush futures."
---
Silence sat between them. But it was a comfortable one now.
Traxis finally gave a soft smile, half-broken but real.
> Traxis:
"You always bring poetry to a warzone."
---
She leaned her head on his shoulder.
> Elegia:
"And you always bring fire to a picnic."
They both laughed—just a little. Just enough to feel like themselves again.
The Awe Root's leaves shimmered in approval, Avia pulsing faintly between them—no judgment, no resistance. Just alignment.
And maybe that was the secret:
Avia doesn't demand peace. It demands truth.
---
So Traxis, the sun-breaker, the misunderstood protector, rested under the sky he's saved more than once.
Not perfect. But present.
Not gentle. But genuine.
And Avia didn't flicker.
Because it knew.
He was being himself.
The clouds above the Airien Academy parted as if making way for a moment too heavy for the heavens to bear. Students, knights, and elites milled about, still reeling from the wars across realms. Peace hovered like a quiet bird—tense, ready to flee at the first loud sound.
And then Traxis walked through the gates.
No fanfare. No epic music in the sky. Just footsteps. Tired, human-like.
Every head turned. Murmurs danced through the marble halls.
He stopped before the High Pavillion, where the elite Airiens gathered: Elexis, arms crossed and stare sharp; Aminator, eyes analytical; Kate the fox, tail twitching with curiosity; Jake, leaning back against a column smirking; Ronda, sharpening a blade for no reason; Kainen, the ever-watchful mentor.
Traxis looked at them.
And then—something rare happened.
He lowered his head.
> Traxis (low and gravelled):
"I was wrong."
The words hit the wind like a hammer wrapped in silk.
Silence fell so hard it could've shattered the stars.
He looked up—his expression raw, unmasked, haunted.
> "Not because I regret stopping the Vortex.
Not because the suns didn't need to fall.
But because I forgot something important…
I forgot why we protect."
He looked directly at Kainen now.
> "I let my fear speak louder than my heart.
I mistook efficiency for wisdom.
And for a moment there—I wasn't a protector.
I was just... a weapon with good intentions."
---
Kainen, that eternal teacher of balance, moved forward and—without warning—hugged him. A tight, awkward, arm-clashing kind of hug that made everyone squint in secondhand discomfort.
But it was real. And necessary.
> Kainen (softly):
"You remembered who you are.
I was scared, Traxis.
Scared that the fire in you would forget it wasn't meant to consume…
but to light the way.
Let this be your lesson:
Avia reflects your truth…
but it only thrives when your truth is whole—
not just anger. Not just justice. But compassion."
---
A slow clap echoed from the side.
Jake.
> Jake (grinning):
"Well damn, big guy. I was betting you'd just punch the apology into the wall."
Kate literally did a backflip. Hopped once, tail sparkling with little sparks of Avia-light.
> Kate:
"That was BEAUTIFUL! You're like… a storm cloud with feelings now!"
Aminator just nodded, arms behind his back, ever stoic but respectful.
> Aminator:
"Correction accepted. Strategically sound humility."
---
Then, a voice:
> "Dad?"
From the back, Klexis, Traxis's son, stepped forward. Young but strong, growing into his role.
> Klexis:
"I'm proud of you."
A soft look between father and son.
And from the steps, Elegia, poised as ever, gave him a casual thumbs-up. That "told you so, but I still love you" thumbs-up.
---
Traxis looked around.
A warrior. A husband. A father. A protector.
He had tried to burn his way to peace.
Now, he would build it—brick by brick, truth by truth.
He cracked a half-smile.
> Traxis:
"Let the 2nd Sun come...
We won't crush it.
We'll confront it.
With unity.
With balance.
With honor."
And the Airien Academy rose in applause—not for a warrior who never erred...
But for a warrior brave enough to say:
"I was wrong."
Scene: The Second Sun — Rise of Reginorth
In the mystical province of Reginorth, Airious shimmered like a realm between dreams and destiny. Skyscraping spires of glimmering quartz reached into the violet-tinted sky where the Second Sun hovered—an ominous violet star, pulsing like a heartbeat of impending doom.
And then, the Vortex Armada descended.
Their ships came like hungry wasps—metallic and menacing—showering the horizon with tension.
But this time...
The Protectors of Airious floated above the city like celestial champions. No longer fractured. No longer uncertain. They hovered in elegant formation, unified, potent, and perfectly still—each one a symphony of potential.
A silence.
And then, chaos broke loose.
---
General Thromel, clad in obsidian armor that pulsed with dark Avian mimicry, emerged from a writhing portal above the Second Sun. His voice slithered across the battlefield like poisoned silk.
> Thromel:
"Look at you all…
Glorified school children with glittery powers and idealism.
You think unity makes you strong?
No. It makes you predictable.
The cosmos won't be saved by dreamers with glowing hands—
but by those with the will to burn the old order down."
He stared down at them like a god scolding ants.
> "Your Traxis here? He knows.
He's tasted what it means to act without hesitation.
Yet you cast him out, pulled him back like a chained hound.
You're not a family. You're a cult of fear wrapped in robes of light."
But the Airiens?
They laughed.
Vericane's blade of ice shimmered as he leaned on it like a staff.
> Vericane:
"Bro... tautology is when you say the same thing twice in different words.
That whole speech?
Redundant and wrong."
Jake casually flipped his time coin midair.
> Jake:
"Yeah, he hit us with that dramatic villain TED Talk and forgot to bring facts. Classic."
Kate flickered between illusions, giving Thromel bunny ears just to mess with him.
> Kate:
"He said we're immature... coming from a guy wearing armor with glow-in-the-dark veins. Please."
Aminator, calm and centered, activated Infinite Awareness. Waves of soft Avian light pulsated around him like a thinking galaxy. His eyes glowed.
> Aminator:
"Incoming flanks from the 10th quadrant, missile burst in five…
Kate, illusion decoy.
Jake, 3-second delay then strike from below.
Victoria, prep a firewall.
Elexis…"
Elexis cracked his neck, his Displacement Affinity already recalibrating the vectors of every attack like a mental chessboard.
> Elexis (grinning):
"Already six steps ahead, boss. Watch me fold this battlefield like origami."
Then came Traxis—the storm they'd all tried to tame.
But this time… the storm had direction.
His eyes glowed with Fear Echo, not weaponized to destroy, but to expose. He pulsed anxiety into the Vortex rebels—not to harm, but to reveal their suppressed doubts. Many flinched. Others faltered mid-attack.
And then—Thromel charged.
Blades clashed. Space cracked. Avian pulses erupted like stars giving birth.
---
Mid-duel, Thromel's voice dripped with provocation.
> Thromel:
"Do you really think they accept you, Traxis?
They cheer now, sure…
But the moment you hesitate? The moment your truth stings?
They'll muzzle you again.
You're a broken spear pretending to be a candle."
But Traxis didn't flinch. His breathing was slow, intentional.
> Traxis (calmly):
"They don't have to accept every part of me.
I just have to accept it first."
He charged forward.
> "And a broken spear?
Still pierces lies."
He released an Evolved Avian Punch, layered in compressed echoes of purpose and identity. The sheer force shattered Thromel's dimensional cloak and collapsed the sky around them into fragments of purple starlight.
BOOM.
Thromel was sent spiraling, torn through rift after rift, crashing into the void-stretched spire of Reginorth's border.
Smoke, silence, and starlight followed.
---
As Thromel lay defeated, coughing up corrupted mist, he still smirked. A warrior who had accepted his end.
> Thromel (rasping):
"Cute speech...
But you should've burned me when you had the chance…"
His eyes twitched with something ancient.
> "You think this was war?
This was a tease.
The First Sun... is already on its way.
And my master..."
He winked—blood on his teeth.
> "He's not so honorable."
And with that—
Thromel disintegrated into shadow particles, consumed by the very violet energy that birthed the Second Sun.
---
Klexis, standing beside his mother on the highest tower, clenched his fists.
> Klexis:
"If this was just the second sun…
What is the first?"
Kainen, from behind, looked to the sky.
> Kainen:
"Not a star, child.
A being.
The first sun... is sentient."
---
The horizon darkened…
And far, far beyond the veil of known reality—
The First Sun began to blink open.
A giant eye, wrapped in solar flame and divine madness.
The Master of the Vortex... was waking.
The First Sun – The Nova Shifter Descends
The sky cracked like glass dipped in prophecy.
Above Reginorth… The First Sun hovered.
Not violet. Not crimson. Not flame.
But white—blinding, pure, almost holy in its glow.
Yet holiness had nothing to do with it.
This was not a star.
This was containment.
And it just broke.
From its center, something emerged—a being wrapped in spirals of collapsing light, forming and reforming like it couldn't pick a single shape.
A presence of utter contradiction.
He was elegant chaos.
Fury in formalwear.
A supernova wearing a crown of impossible geometry.
They called him:
Octicon, the Nova Shifter.
---
He didn't land.
He descended—
like judgment wrapped in aesthetics.
A comet of pure metaphysical condemnation.
---
> Octicon (voice fracturing space):
"I am the first ignition.
The white forge that melts dimensions into weapons.
You... defenders...
are simply deluded sculptures of causality.
I shall reclaim Airious, as was destined—
since before destiny had ink."
He hovered, arms wide, smiling like a kid about to unwrap a planet.
> "These suns—not stars...
But primordial power clusters.
Engines of anti-realm energy, forged not to warm—but to wage.
Made to end meta-terrestrials like you."
Then—he blinked.
And war began.
---
He moved.
But moved is too small a word. He blurred through existence.
His attacks came like accelerated thoughts—ripping through barriers, phasing through time-locks, slapping aside Avian defenses like napkins in a hurricane.
Kate's illusions shattered.
Jake's time coin cracked.
Vericane's ice sword snapped in mid-chant.
He was too fast.
Even Elexis—the master of Displacement Affinity—couldn't track him without lag.
Chaos. Despair. Cosmic pressure.
Octicon was a one-being extinction.
---
Then—
Everything paused.
As if the cosmos itself forgot to tick forward.
Because in the center of the battlefield…
Aminator stopped aura farming mid-battle.
Finger raised. Eyebrow slightly judgmental.
He gave him the classic:
🧍🏽♂️ → "Where do you think you're going?" face.
Octicon, halfway through vaporizing Elitor, froze.
BOOM!
Aminator's Avian Punch struck.
But not just any punch.
A multi-layered, intention-folded, soul-tuned Avian Smash.
It didn't just knock Octicon back.
It sent him through five dimensional spaces in one strike:
1. The Wailing Fracture – where regrets echo as soundwaves.
2. The Causal Plains – where every choice becomes visible.
3. The Glass Ocean – where movement becomes reflection.
4. The Numb Hollow – where emotions are stripped clean.
5. The Broken Casualty – where time is littered with fallen 'could-have-beens.'
And there, Octicon reeled, floating in fragments of himself, stunned, distorted.
Then…
Aminator appeared.
Casually. Gracefully. As if time itself made way.
> Aminator (voice calm, but layered with eons):
"You think metaphysics was made by you?"
He stepped forward, each footfall birthing miniature suns.
> "We forged it—
In the forges of soulbirth.
When the First Voice hummed the Avian Tone.
Before you even knew how to spell 'ontology.'
You are not a creator, Octicon.
You are an echo, dressed in stolen relevance."
He raised his fist again.
> "And echoes...
Don't get to rewrite the song."
---
Back on Reginorth, the Protectors rose again, emboldened by Aminator's stand.
Elexis: "Alright, okay... he just got five-spaced. Time to double down."
Jake: "Remind me never to interrupt Aminator's aura farming again."
Kate: "I'm adding that punch to my dating standards. 'Must punch metaphysical gods into five dimensions.'"
Traxis, standing on broken light shards:
> "Octicon came as a comet...
But he's about to leave as a lesson."
---
But from deep within the Broken Casualty, Octicon stirred.
Still smiling.
Still laughing.
Still—shifting.
> Octicon (echoing):
"Oh...
So you've remembered how to punch.
Cute.
> Let me show you what it means...
To twist a sun into a sword."
The White Sun behind him warped.
It began to transform…
The Broken Casualty Dimension began to tremble.
Octicon, still grinning, let out a howl so layered it echoed across intent itself.
> "You like fists?
Let's see how you feel…
about a star turned sharp."
He reached into the White Sun, fingers piercing its core like it was soft bread.
And from it, he forged a blade—
not of metal, but of collapsed metaphysical principles.
The blade sang—each note unraveling paradoxes.
A sword of raw ontology.
A slicer of logic.
A weapon that could cut not just through bodies, but through truths.
Then—he lunged.
Once.
Twice.
Ten thousand times in a millisecond.
But each time...
Aminator dodged.
Without looking.
Without flinching.
Without even blinking.
He sipped from a thought, pivoted with an idea, and let Octicon dance in futility.
> Aminator, eyes closed:
"My awareness isn't just infinite…
It's already post-battle. You're still playing.
I've seen your end before your beginning."
Octicon snarled, his movements growing desperate.
> "You're fast.
But I am force incarnate!"
Then, he raised his sword—
And instead of slicing outward, he plunged it into the dimension itself.
Reality howled.
A blast expanded—an AOE metaphysical bomb.
It didn't just destroy the dimension.
It deconstructed the very rules that made it.
BOOOOM.
Everything collapsed into a scream...
—
They reappeared in Airious, mid-sky, smoke and paradoxes still clinging to their skin.
---
🔁 Meanwhile, Back on the Ground…
Traxis stood surrounded—Vortex rebels swarming.
His eyes were half-glazed, flickering like broken neon.
> "Mental Inversion."
He whispered the words, and suddenly—
The battlefield fractured.
Each rebel began to see each other as enemies, allies, shadows, or themselves.
Blades missed. Commands conflicted.
Some turned on their leaders. Some froze in existential panic.
Mental chaos. Masterfully played.
But then…
A whisper inside his mind:
> "Stop the cap."
> "You're not doing this for them. You're doing it for yourself."
> "Still trying to prove you belong."
> "Still scared you'll never be more than a reckless thought with hands."
It was Thromel's voice, echoing like guilt dipped in venom.
Traxis's Avia flickered.
His aura went from sharp to unstable. Echoes distorted.
His illusions trembled.
He almost dropped it.
---
But then...
He gritted his teeth.
Fists clenched.
His own voice pushed back:
> "Damn right I'm doing this for me."
> "But I'm also doing it for those who can't fight. Who don't even know they need saving."
"And I do belong—because I choose to. Not because someone said so."
His Avia burst back into focus.
Brighter. Sharper. More him than ever before.
---
Then—he dove into the fray.
> "Let's mess with some minds, shall we?"
He wasn't just causing confusion now—
He was conducting a symphony of disorder, every false vision a verse, every fake-out a chorus.
The rebels panicked.
And above it all...
Octicon, reeling from the dimension bomb, looked up as Aminator descended again—
cloak trailing light, fists still untouched.
> Aminator (low, cold):
"The only bomb you dropped…
was your relevance."
---
And somewhere in the quiet edges of Airious...
The second sun dimmed.
The first sun cracked.
And a shadow, older than them all, stirred—
Watching.
Waiting.
For his moment.
Beneath the fractured skies of Airious, amid the chaos of cosmic warfare and dimensional distortions—there was a place the protectors missed.
A shadowed alley of hope.
Where laughter once echoed.
Where families held hands, dreaming under the second sun.
And that's where the Vortex filth crept in.
Cowardly.
Silent.
Efficient.
They struck fast—innocents screamed, some never even saw what ended them. Children, elders, dreamers—cut down in the name of nothingness.
Traxis heard it.
Or perhaps, more accurately, he felt it.
A rupture.
A scream inside his soul.
Not one of fear—but of pure, undiluted wrath.
His hands shook.
His breath turned to steam.
His Avia flickered—and then snapped like a wire under pressure.
> "You killed them…
not warriors, not enemies...
but people..."
He dropped all teachings, every mantra, every damn quote Kainen ever fed him.
And in that void—
He became the storm.
---
🧠 The Mental Inversion: Version Berserk
This wasn't just illusion anymore.
This wasn't trickery.
Traxis shattered the framework of their minds.
He tore the boundary between self and enemy.
He looped their worst memories until they begged for death.
He reversed their own loyalty, made them fight their shadows.
And then, without flinching, he watched them tear each other apart.
No honor.
No hesitation.
Just vengeance forged in thought and soaked in dread.
---
🚨 Kainen's Warning
From above, Kainen descended—face grim, aura like steel unraveling in sorrow.
> "Traxis… stop this.
You've gone too far…"
No response.
> "This isn't who you are!"
Still no response.
Just the sound of bones breaking, minds rupturing, and rage feeding itself.
That's when the others felt it.
The shift.
Elexis saw it first—he didn't smile this time.
He smirked… but with sadness behind it.
> "Brother finally broke..."
Aminator looked down, fists clenched.
Victoria's flames dimmed.
Even Kate the Fox turned away.
But Avia… it did not judge.
Because Avia is truth, and in that moment—Traxis's truth was wrath.
---
🔒 The Council's Command
Kainen trembled.
He remembered the secret chamber.
The Council of Order.
The decree spoken under hush:
> Tenor: "If Traxis's mind snaps… do not hesitate."
> Gogia: "Contain him. No matter the cost."
> Maraxis: "His power unchecked can birth paradoxes that feed on sanity itself."
Those words came crashing down on his shoulders like the weight of galaxies.
And Kainen—mentor, leader, brother-in-arms—knew...
It was time.
---
He stepped forward, eyes full of sorrow.
> "I'm sorry, Traxis...
I know why you did it.
I know the pain.
But if I let you continue—you become what they are.
And I won't lose you too."
He began weaving the Seal of Resonance—a forbidden Avian technique, meant to silence an aura from the inside out.
He will use that to hold him in place for Ronda to use the void sphere.
And as he chanted...
The air turned cold.
The others stopped fighting.
Even Octicon, bleeding and battered, looked toward the glow…
Because this wasn't just war anymore—
This was heartbreak written in light.
---
He wasn't a monster.
He wasn't corrupted.
He just… snapped.
Not out of lust for blood.
But from love so deep, it drowned him in his own truth.
And now…
Traxis stood alone,
in a world he had once defended with his madness,
his genius,
his pain—
Begging.
> "Please... someone…
Tell me I'm not wrong…
They killed them.
I'm not—I'm not wrong!"
His voice cracked.
No answer.
Only the sound of Ronda's Glue Sphere hardening into its Void Shell form—specially crafted to absorb volatile minds without triggering dimensional tremors.
> fwommm…
The seal began to close around him. Piece by piece.
---
The Betrayal of Stillness
Traxis turned his gaze, eyes wide, scanning faces like a wounded animal.
Aminator…?
The man with insight in infinity?
No words. Just bowed his head.
Elexis… his rival… his brother in arms?
A cold side glance.
Then Elexis turned away, whispering,
> "If I looked... I wouldn't have let it happen."
Kate wiped a tear that wasn't hers.
Victoria's fire flickered weakly.
Elitor clenched his fists, turning away from the light of the seal.
Even Cration, who could warp intensity itself,
couldn't change this moment.
---
⚫ The Void Spear Encloses
Piece by piece…
Like mourning folding into time.
> "NO—NO, DON'T DO THIS!"
"I'M NOT WRONG!"
"I FOUGHT FOR THEM!"
The final lock activated, a soft chime, mocking the fury in his voice with serene indifference.
And then…
Silence.
Only his eyes, behind that dimensional shell, still visible.
And those eyes...
They weren't angry anymore.
Just tired.
Confused.
Heartbroken.
And in that silence…
A new rage was born.
Not a wrath of fire and fury.
But the rage of abandonment.
---
🧎 Kainen's Fall
He fell to his knees.
> "Forgive me…
Forgive me, Traxis…
I should've fought for you…
but they taught me to fight against you instead…"
He didn't cry.
Because even tears felt unworthy.
And all the other protectors…
...stood in the shadow of their silence, questioning if they sealed the enemy—
—or sealed away the last part of themselves that truly cared.
---
And far, far above...
The First White Sun pulsed ominously.
Octicon, licking his wounds, smiled.
> "So… the strongest mind among them was betrayed by their hearts.
Beautiful.
Chaos doesn't destroy armies…
It lets them do it themselves."
He raised his nova-blade, drawn again from the metaphysical core.
> "Round two, children of Airious...
Let's see how well you fight...
without your conscience."
Scene: When the Master Stops Holding Back
Kainen's cloak rippled like the pages of an ancient prophecy finally being read aloud.
> Boom.
Flash Instincts.
Time bent.
> Snap.
Warping Intensity.
Octicon's mass was stretched, compressed, and turned into a philosophical metaphor.
> Clap.
Avian Constructs burst out—a Legion of Possibility, all of them him.
> Step.
Hollow Step.
And now he was behind Octicon's thoughts.
---
Octicon, the almighty Nova Shifter, who once hovered from the white sun like he was some divine boogeyman, now looked like a space pancake folded in two-dimensional shame.
> "You don't care, huh?"
Kainen's voice was low—volcanic pressure trapped behind mercy.
"Then you won't care if I shatter your perception of self."
He grabbed him—not physically, but at the narrative level.
> "Reality is your skin now. And I'm going to peel it back."
---
☀️ But the Cost of Power Is Always Personal
For all the mastery, for all the beauty of battle—
Kainen was cracking.
His moves were perfect.
But his character was not.
Because the Kainen they knew—calm, guiding, patient with every soul—was gone.
This Kainen wasn't fighting to defend.
He was punishing to cope.
His Avia trembled...
Not in fear…
But in conflict.
You can't master your own guilt.
And Octicon?
He felt it.
He laughed—a cruel, broken laugh through the metaphysical bruises.
> "You're just like Traxis."
"You call it mastery…"
"…but it's just you trying not to feel useless again."
Kainen flinched.
For a moment.
---
🌑 A Glitch in the God
Octicon seized the glitch— and unleashed a new technique:
> "White Collapse" — a solar backlash of sentient sun energy, condensing guilt and rage into gravitational paradox.
BOOM.
Airious split open.
Dimensions twisted.
Avian constructs collapsed.
Kainen flew back—not from power, but from doubt.
And there… as he landed...
He whispered…
> "…Traxis… was I wrong?"
He looked at his own hands.
Not as a warrior.
But as a teacher who failed twice.
---
And behind him, Octicon rose, bleeding pure metaphysical light…
> "You were all so busy mastering powers…
None of you ever learned to master yourselves."
[Scene: The Void Sphere | A Place of Silence… Until Fog Bled Through]
In the dark, suspended between time and consequence, Traxis floated—not restrained, but abandoned.
His hands trembled. Not from weakness...but from betrayal's sting.
> "I was just protecting the innocent..."
"I know it was reckless..."
"But isn't that what heroes do?"
A fog slithered in—not cold, not warm.
Just... familiar.
It coiled like regret. Spoke like comfort.
And from it stepped Bhine the Deceiver.
> "I told you," he whispered like a lullaby dipped in arsenic,
"They don't believe in you. Not Kainen. Not the protectors.
Not even your brother."
Traxis clenched his fists.
> "They did what they had to…"
> "Did they?" Bhine purred.
"Roll the memory."
A projection from the fog.
The Council of Order.
Tenor. Gogia. And… Maraxis—his father.
Eyes calm. Voice cold.
> "If he ever snaps… you must contain him, Kainen. You know what he's capable of."
Kainen didn't object.
Not even once.
The scene flickered out.
> "They never trusted you. Not even the ones you bled beside," Bhine hissed.
"But we… we trust the real you. The Free Abyss trusts the real you."
And like that, the Avia within dimmed—
Its purity collapsing under the weight of despair given purpose.
But Traxis…
He didn't fall into madness.
No.
He rose into resolve.
> "If my truth is darkness,"
"Then I'll become the night they need... to see the stars again."
---
[Scene: The Heavens Above Airious | The White Sun Looms]
It started like a ripple.
Then a tear.
Then a shockwave as the Void Sphere shattered.
And from it: a streak of burning sorrow.
Traxis, flying faster than guilt could catch him.
Kainen looked up.
Aminator narrowed his eyes.
Ronda covered her mouth.
And Elexis…
Elexis said nothing.
> "He's heading for the sun..." someone whispered.
No one moved.
They didn't deserve to.
And as Traxis soared, his memories unraveled:
---
Elegia, his wife:
> "Protect others, even if they don't understand."
Klexis, his son:
> "Papa, you're stronger when you're kind."
The protectors... the betrayals... his father…
Each face etched into the skin of his resolve.
---
He reached the white sun.
Octicon turned.
> "YOU!?"
But there was no fight left to give.
Only finality.
> "This isn't for you. This isn't revenge.
It's not for redemption.
It's for the innocents who never got a say."
He summoned all his remaining Avia.
Burning. Evolving. Becoming...
> "The Last Dawn."
A single Avian Punch.
Not of anger.
Not of glory.
But of truth, shaped in the form of goodbye.
---
BOOOOOM.
The white sun—shattered.
Octicon—erased.
The Vortex Rebels—incinerated in metaphysical fire.
And Traxis...
Gone.
Dust swept by the winds of legacy.
---
[Scene: The Ashfall Over Airious]
No celebration.
No cheers.
Only silence.
Kainen fell to his knees.
Aminator looked skyward.
Ronda wept into Victoria's arms.
And Elexis…
Whispered:
> "He did what none of us could."
---
[The Final Voice of Traxis, Echoing Beyond Reality]
> "If they ask who I was… tell them I was fire born from doubt…
...who chose to burn so others wouldn't."
---
[The stars above Airious flickered once.]
And one of them… glowed blue.
Just for a moment.
As if someone was watching from the beyond.
And still protecting.