Arya and Bayu soared low over the Pacific, the wind screaming past their wings. Beneath them, the ocean shimmered black, endless. Ahead, the island loomed—Project Phoenix, Serambi Nusantara's crown jewel. It looked like a fortress fused with a monster, with towers like jagged teeth and underground mazes crawling beneath the surface.
"This is it," Arya muttered, his red eyes glowing. "Where it all ends."
They touched down silently near the facility's perimeter. Using shadows and speed, they slipped past patrols, neutralizing guards with lethal efficiency. The halls were lined with cages, glass tanks, containment rooms—each housing tortured souls twisted by failed experiments. Arya saw the horror in their eyes. And he couldn't look away.
"We're getting you out," he said, voice cold but steady. "You're not experiments. You're victims."
But freedom was never easy.
An ambush. Dozens of guards. Gunfire. Explosions. Arya shielded the escapees with his wings, bullets tearing through him. Blood spilled. He hit the ground hard.
And then, a voice stopped everything.
"Enough."
Professor Hadiwijaya stood at the heart of the chaos—older now, but still burning with obsession. He raised his hand, and the soldiers paused.
"I don't want to kill you, Arya. I want you to join us."
Arya stared through the haze of smoke and pain.
"You're insane."
"You could be a god," the professor said. "Immortal. Powerful. We could build a world of perfection—together."
Arya laughed, bitter and cracked.
"I'd rather burn than stand beside you."
Bayu's voice surged in his mind. "He's stalling. He wants control. Don't listen."
"Too late," the professor snarled. "Then die with your dream."
Gunfire erupted.
Arya fell. Blood pooled. Darkness crawled in.
"I'm sorry, Bayu," he whispered. "I couldn't save them…"
"No," Bayu's voice said, stronger now. "We still can. But we have to finish this—together."
Arya's vision blurred. "You mean…"
"We unleash everything," Bayu said. "The parasite. The power. All of it. We burn this place to ash."
"We'll die."
"Then we die like we lived. Fighting."
Arya nodded slowly.
"Alright. Let's end this."
He let go. Of pain. Of fear. Of control.
And the parasite rose.
His body changed—stone-hard skin, storm-born wings, eyes burning like dying suns. The wind howled as he stood, colossal and inhuman. The enemy fired—pointless. He walked through it.
With a roar, Arya unleashed everything. A blast that shattered the ground. The island screamed—earthquakes, lava, towers collapsing in flame.
And then—
Silence.
Oblivion.
Aftermath
He should've died. But Anima Terrae wrapped around him, a cocoon of alien will. He awoke on jagged rocks, soaked in blood, his wings burnt to bone. The island was gone—swallowed by the sea.
Arya clutched something in his fist. A silver locket.
Bayu's smile stared back at him from the photo inside.
"We were supposed to die together," he whispered.
No reply.
But deep in his chest, beyond his heartbeat… something stirred. A whisper. A flicker of presence. A promise.
Bayu was still there.
Somehow.
Somewhere.
Closing Note
Arya stood. He was still alive. For a reason. The war wasn't over. Serambi Nusantara had more hidden nests. And he would find them.
One by one.
And when he did…
He'd burn them too.