The battlefield was silent.
The once-glorious cavern now lay in ruins — scorched stone, shattered wings, fragments of divine steel scattered like fallen stars.
Arhaan stood amid the aftermath, his breathing steady but his heart heavy. The Seraph's light still lingered faintly on the ground, pulsing like a dying ember.
He knelt beside it.
For a moment, he simply watched the glow fade, his reflection shimmering faintly in the golden dust.
He could have walked away.
He could have left the remains to vanish into the dark.
But instead—he began to dig.
Using his chains as tools, Arhaan carved a resting place from the stone. Slowly, carefully, he placed what remained of the Seraph within it.
Azrakar's voice echoed faintly, curious.
> "You bury your enemy?"
Arhaan paused. "He wasn't my enemy. He was sent to kill me, but… he believed he was protecting the world."
> "Mercy is not a weapon you can afford."
Arhaan's lips tightened. "Maybe not. But if I forget compassion… I'll become what I'm fighting."
The silence that followed was long—and then, faintly, Azrakar's tone softened.
> "You surprise even me, child of chains."
Arhaan finished the burial, pressing his hand over the mound. The red light from his chains flickered, sealing the stone with quiet energy.
He whispered, "You served what you believed. I'll serve what should be believed."
Then he stood.
The Oathbreaker gleamed at his side, the crimson veins along the blade pulsing slowly like a living heart.
Far above, clouds began to swirl. He could feel them—watching. Heaven's gaze.
And among that divine pressure, another presence descended… faint, familiar, cold.
Kael.
---
On the other side of the mountain, golden light tore open the sky as Kael descended from Heaven, landing upon the cliffs with the grace of an angel and the weight of a god.
He looked across the horizon toward the ruins below.
The mountain trembled faintly at his aura, light spilling from every pore of his body.
He's alive, Kael thought. And stronger.
But deep beneath the righteous fire in his chest was something else—an emotion he couldn't name.
Not hatred.
Not fear.
Something sharper.
Jealousy.
Kael spread his wings, whispering to himself, "If Heaven won't understand, I'll make it understand."
The hunt had begun.