The Hunters don't rise because they're perfect.
They rise because pain became their sword... and unity their shield.
🩸 INT. THE PRISON WORLD — AFTER THE SHATTER
The air was heavy.
But not the kind that sat on your skin — no, this air crawled into bone and whispered,
"Something sacred is about to bleed."
Jason stood at Alexander's right.
Venessa to his left.
No longer just siblings.
No longer just survivors.
But warriors forged in memory, shame, and second chances.
And in front of them —
Malekta.
She circled them slowly — not like a predator chasing prey…
But like a queen admiring the final painting before she burned the gallery down.
Her feet barely touched the cracked stone.
Her presence stirred the ash like a hymn for war.
MALEKTA (soft, proud):
"You've finally woken up."
But the Hunters were not raw anymore.
Not grieving. Not drowning.
They had walked through fire.
And they chose to come out whole.
VENESSA (firm, no tremble):
"No more cages."
ALEXANDER (low, focused):
"No more running."
JASON (raising one sword, steady as breath):
"Let's see what she really bleeds."
⚔️ THE BATTLE BEGINS
Jason moved first.
Not in rage — but with purpose.
His swords lit like stars restrained, buzzing with blue fire.
Not blinding. Not showy.
Lethal.
He vanished, blinked, reappeared to Malekta's right —
One cut. Low. Fast. Clean.
Malekta turned, claws out — her robes moving like shadows trying to remember light.
She parried with a snarl.
Then—Alexander.
He didn't sprint.
He stalked.
Each step shook the floor.
His twin axes spun like judgment made physical — low and heavy.
He wasn't trying to kill fast.
He was trying to feel every strike.
Above them, Venessa hovered like a guardian made of fury and focus.
Bloodlight pulsed at her back — not flooding, not exploding —
Just precise.
She marked Malekta's blind spots.
Covered her brothers with pressure bursts.
Watched. Calculated.
Executed.
They weren't wild.
They were coordinated.
And for the first time in ten thousand years —
Malekta was on her back foot.
đź’€ MALEKTA STRIKES BACK
Her body snapped like a whip of flesh and rage.
MALEKTA (mocking):
"So you finally fight… like one."
Her form twisted.
One face became four.
Her hands became claws and then wings — then both.
She spun — black fire trailing her like broken time.
She slammed into Jason —
Sent him flying.
She flipped toward Venessa —
Her claws slashed skyward.
But Venessa met her midair with a bloodshield curved like a blade of purpose —
Her feet crashed against the ground —
Her bones screamed — but she did not fall.
Alexander roared.
He drove one axe into her shoulder — the other cracked the floor beside her.
Malekta screeched — and slapped him into a wall.
Stone shattered.
But he stood again.
🔥 RESTRAINED DIVINE ENERGY
Jason wiped blood from his cheek —
But his swords stayed lit.
JASON (breathing hard):
"I could burn her down now… but it'll cost us later."
ALEXANDER (calm, grounded):
"Then we don't burn.
We bleed her."
So they adapted.
Jason reduced his light output — became speed.
Alexander focused on defense — catching her death magic with locked arms.
Venessa used her wings not to fly —
But to drag her brothers out of danger.
At the exact second it mattered.
Not flawless.
Not perfect.
Disciplined.
Malekta noticed.
Her grin faltered.
MALEKTA (growling):
"You're holding back... Are you scared of what you'll become?"
VENESSA (ice in her words):
"No.
We're scared of wasting what's meant for something worse than you."
🌪️ THE CLOSING STRIKE
Jason flipped above her.
Blades spinning.
One sliced her wing —
SNAP.
Alexander shoulder-slammed her from behind —
She skidded across the floor like fire dragged through bone.
Venessa dropped from above —
Fists glowing.
She hit her in the chest —
Broke through three walls of bone.
They regrouped.
Chest heaving.
Weapons still lit.
Blood dripping like medals earned.
Malekta rose slowly.
Her body cracked.
One arm dislocated.
Her robes torn.
Her mouth dripping blood.
And for the first time—
She wasn't smiling.
MALEKTA (spitting):
"You were always meant to be killers.
But not like this.
Not with… discipline.
That… that was my mistake."
She lifted her hand.
A rift opened.
MALEKTA (looking straight at Venessa):
"Tell your blood to watch the stars.
When they start falling…
It means I've returned."
And with that—
She vanished.
🌌 AFTERMATH
The prison world began to quake.
Bones cracked.
Skies bled.
Jason slowly sheathed his swords.
His knees trembled.
JASON (quietly):
"We didn't beat her…"
VENESSA (soft, but sure):
"We survived her."
ALEXANDER (almost smiling):
"We taught her."
No one laughed.
No one collapsed.
They just looked up — toward the next fight.
The real war had yet to begin.
But now?
They were ready.
But even as the rift sealed behind Malekta, something else stirred beneath the battlefield.
Something no one noticed.
Not Jason.
Not Alexander.
Not even Venessa, whose blood was still humming from battle.
Deep beneath the bones of the prison world, far below the ash and screams… a symbol flickered.
One none of them had seen before.
A circle wrapped in seven rings, pulsing with a heartbeat.
And inside that circle…
A boy.
Naked. Floating. Eyes closed.
No older than twelve.
But around him —
Light and darkness swirled together.
Angelic wings on one side.
Demonic horns on the other.
He stirred.
A voice — ancient, but kind — whispered from nowhere.
"He wasn't supposed to wake up yet…"
Another voice — cruel, laughing — responded:
"Too late. The balance broke the moment they remembered."
The boy opened his eyes.
They were gold.
And black.
At the same time.
He blinked.
And whispered a name.
"Venessa."
Somewhere far away…
Venessa froze.
Her breath caught.
She clutched her chest like something had just whispered her soul's true name.
JASON:
"You okay?"
VENESSA (distant):
"Yeah… yeah. Just…
For a second…
I thought someone called me."
She looked at the sky.
The stars hadn't fallen yet.
But one…
Just one…
Was flickering.
🔥 TO BE CONTINUED…