The city was dead.
The air reeked of rust and ash, a taste like burnt iron clinging to the back of Ender Levin's throat. Stone carcasses of buildings jutted toward a sky warped into a blue-pink triangle, as if some distant god had taken a knife to the moon.
Why is it like this?
It wasn't supposed to be like this.
Bootsteps crunched over shattered glass.
"It seems like only we're left," said a voice behind him.
Zack D. Roy. His crimson-gold armor gleamed dully under the distorted light, the broad sword on his back humming with restrained heat. Its dragon-shaped guard glared like it knew the outcome of this day.
"Well… we should go," Ender murmured, eyes still on the strange sky. "Auschai isn't far."
But deep down, he knew distance wouldn't matter.
The air shifted. Shadows bled across the ruins, swallowing what little light remained.
"They're here."
They ran. Faster than light, faster than thought — yet every alley, every street looped them back to where they began.
"This is—" Zack's voice cut off as a beam of molten light screamed toward him. He twisted, steel flashing, the impact rattling his arm to the bone.
Ender's daggers flared in his hands, glowing red-violet, an aura like a dying star wrapping around him.
Figures emerged from the ruins. Dozens. Hundreds. Clad in rotting skin-colored robes, their faces hidden behind cracked masks.
"Damn it… no choice."
Zack's armor flared, fire spilling from its seams. Ender's aura howled against the darkness. The two of them charged.
The world became steel, blood, and screams.
When it ended, they were on their knees.
A robed figure seized Zack by the hair. A dagger — yellow as diseased bone — caught the last light of the sky before slicing clean through his neck.
"ZACK!"
Ender lunged, shoving enemies aside, but Zack's body dissolved into nothing before he could touch it.
A shadow approached.
The woman's steps were light, deliberate. She drew closer, mask tilting toward him. There was something… familiar in her presence.
He slashed. The blow barely grazed her — but it was enough to shatter her mask.
Pale skin. Violet eyes.
"…Marine?"
No answer. The knife punched into his chest. His breath hitched as warmth flooded his lungs, thick and metallic.
~ Why?
~vWhy is it always me?
~ I don't want to die.
The world narrowed to black.
And then—light.
Warmth seeped into his bones. The distant chatter of children, the scent of grass. Ender's eyes fluttered open to find himself seated on a park bench, a fantasy novel in his lap.
"…A dream?"
Children laughed, chasing each other across the green. Adults strolled past, murmuring about nothing at all.
He ran a hand through his hair, the phantom taste of blood still on his tongue.
~ What was that? Powers? Zon? Those people… and her.
~ Why did she appeared in my dream?