Chapter 13 – The Dawn and the Fire (Part 2)
The storm broke loose.
Winds screamed through the ruins of the capital as the Rift's light expanded, tearing through the sky like a wound that refused to close. Energy pulsed across the city – buildings rising and collapsing in the same heartbeat. The Custodians' ships fought to stabilise the containment field, beams of azure light cutting across the battlefield, but every surge from Subject 44 shattered their hold like glass.
Kairo launched forward through the chaos, his body wreathed in golden flame. Reika and Taro followed – two figures chasing a dying sun.
Subject 44 moved like a god unbound. Every strike Kairo landed was mirrored, countered, reflected back at him – as if he were fighting his own shadow. Every punch was met by an echo, every blast of fire met by a wave of void. Around them, the Rift bled starlight into reality, twisting the air with the cries of those who had perished before - old Custodians, failed experiments, fragments of Kairo's former selves.
Reika dodged collapsing debris, her sword clashing with spectral figures pouring from the Rift. "We can't hold this forever!" she shouted
"We don't need forever!" Taro yelled back – though his voice cracked halfway through.
He was trembling, but not from fear. The chaos around him blurred; his breaths came uneven, shallow. The laughter that once came so easily began to sound wrong – strained, desperate. His mind had been breaking for a long time, ever since the Academy. Ever since St. Kareth's halls, where white walls hid black truths.
He could still hear the alarms – the screams – the sound of his own laughter echoing off the sterile corridors while they tested him. They'd said humour would "stabilise his neutral fragmentation." They'd wired him to machines that fed on emotion, told him to joke through the pain. And he had. Because if he stopped laughing, he'd remember.
He'd remember what they took from him.
Taro's grin faltered as his pulse quickened. The Rift's light pulsed again, and in its reflection, he saw his old self – a child in a patient's gown, a number instead of a name. "Subject 09".
"Why won't you laugh for us, Taro."
"Because it hurts."
"Then laugh harder."
"Taro!" Reika's voice snapped him back to the present. A beam of energy rippled past him, nearly taking his head off. She ran to his side, cutting down another Rift-born creature. "Hey, stay with me – what's wrong?"
He chuckled weakly, clutching his chest. "Heh…guess I'm finally having that mental breakdown I scheduled for next week."
Reika's face fell, but she still smiled – that small, fragile smile only she could manage in the end of the world. "You idiot…"
"Yeah. But I'm your idiot." He lifted his weapon, wiped a tear he pretended wasn't there, and stood again. "Let's finish this."
Meanwhile, Kairo clashed with Subject 44, each strike shaking the ground. Fire met void, light met shadow. Their movements blurred into streaks of gold and black. For every wound Kairo inflicted, another opened on his own body – reflections of pain, mirror scars binding him to his enemy.
"You cannot destroy what you are," Subject 44's voice echoed, fracturing the air. "The Tyrant King is the Rift. The cycle demands your end."
Kairo roared, summoning flames that tore through the storm. "Then I'll burn the cycle itself!"
He launched forward, a column of fire splitting the ground. Subject 44 countered – a wave of distortion breaking space apart. The impact sent shockwaves through the entire capital, the earth fracturing under their feet.
Taro staggered as the energy rippled through him. "He's…he's losing control," he muttered. "The Tyrant's taking over."
Reika's eyes filled with fear. "Then we stop it – no matter what."
"But how? We're just – "
The air trembled again. The Tyrant's voice thundered through Kairo's mind – ancient, merciless.
"No more rebirth. No more mercy. Burn them all."
Kairo fell to his knees, clutching his head, screaming as golden fire poured from his body. The Tyrant's form began to manifest fully – a giant of living flame rising behind him, crowned in shadow and light. The sky itself seemed to kneel before it.
Taro's heart raced. His breathing went ragged. "Reika, if he goes full Tyrant…that's it. Everyone's done."
Reika gritted her teeth. "Then we bring him back."
"How? With hugs and friendship?"
"Maybe," she snapped. "You got a better idea?"
Taro stared for a moment – then, despite everything, he laughed again. Not the forced, broken laugh from before – but something real. "No. But that's why I like you."
And with that, he sprinted into the flames.
Kairo's body convulsed under the Tyrant's power, his eyes blazing gold. The shadow of the King loomed behind him – colossal, burning and divine. But through the storm, a voice reached him – Taro's, yelling louder than the fire.
"HEY! YOU OWE ME FOR ALL THE TIMES I SAVED YOUR SORRY ASS!"
Kairo's eyes flickered. "…Taro?"
"YEAH, THAT'S ME! YOUR FAVOURITE PSYCHO!"
Reika ran beside him, tears cutting through the ash on her face. "Kairo, fight it! Please!"
The fire cracked. The Tyrant's form shuddered.
Kairo screamed, clawing at his own chest, forcing the flames inward. For a heartbeat, his true self surfaced – his eyes human again.
"Taro… Reika…" His voice broke. "I –"
Then the world went white.
The Tyrant King roared, the Rift collapsed, and everything dissolved into light.