The ship groaned under its own weight—metal bending, alarms screaming.
Kessira moved ahead in silence, her steps light and deliberate as she led Onyx, Luto, and Rha'vess through the fractured corridors of the Eclipse March. The scent of ozone and oil hung thick in the air, mingled with the copper tang of blood.
Rha'vess's voice was low, uneasy. "What of the others? The rest of the Choir… were they captured? Killed?"
Luto glanced at him as they passed through a smoke-choked corridor. "During the struggle—before we were caught—we helped one of them get away."
Onyx nodded. "He bolted toward the other direction of the belt. I figured he'd make it back to your camp."
Luto adjusted his cuffs, squinting. "But the main ship—the one carrying that massive cosmic pulse—it followed him."
Rha'vess froze mid-step, his expression flickering between realization and dread. "That ship… you're certain?"
Onyx frowned. "No mistake. Whoever leads the Crimson Fervor now—they're up there. Watching."
Rha'vess's talons flexed unconsciously, his wings twitching in anxiety. "Then my people are in danger…"
Luto stopped him with a raised hand. "Easy. Ryu's still up there, remember? If anyone can handle a disaster, it's him."
The floor beneath them rumbled suddenly—deep, guttural, like the growl of a giant beneath their feet.
Another tremor. Then the sound of something massive colliding with metal.
Screams. Weapons fire. The unmistakable thud of panic echoing down the halls.
Rha'vess's eyes darted upward. "What's happening?"
Luto frowned, listening. "That's outside the hull… sounds like something's tearing through the Fervor's outer ships."
Kessira sighed, brushing a strand of shadow from her face. "That wild dog again."
Onyx groaned softly, rubbing his temple. "Velgrath."
Luto stared blankly at him. "…You're telling me that is who I think it is?"
Kessira crossed her arms. "Of course. You didn't think he'd stay still while you were missing, did you? He's loyal to a fault and too impatient to wait for orders."
They reached the outer platform of the ship. The air here was thin and cold, laced with static from ruptured energy conduits. Beyond the fractured railing, the full scale of the chaos revealed itself.
The void was alive with fire.
Twenty Crimson Fervor vessels orbited the belt in tight formation—until one of them detonated, its hull cleaved in half by something massive.
Velgrath.
The Hollow Fang tore through the void like a spectral wolf, his bone armor gleaming against the red haze. His twin cleavers shimmered with trapped light as he vaulted off the burning wreckage of one ship and plunged into another. The explosion bloomed behind him, scattering debris like shattered starlight.
Luto's jaw dropped slightly. "Well. That's one way to announce yourself."
Freed members of the Choir—winged and half-armored—flew through the smoke, rushing toward Rha'vess. One of them, voice trembling, shouted, "That beast—he saved us! It tore through the Crimson Fervor lines and broke the cages!"
Rha'vess stared in disbelief. "He saved you?"
Onyx nodded slowly, watching Velgrath carve through another enemy cruiser. "He's one of mine."
Luto side-eyed him. "You didn't tell him to do this, did you?"
"No," Onyx said flatly.
"Then how does he even know what's happening?"
Onyx's brow furrowed as he followed the trail of destruction. "I don't know."
Kessira smirked faintly. "Maybe he just didn't like the smell of the Fervor's metal."
Luto exhaled through his teeth. "Right. Sure. Let's go with that."
Below them, another ship erupted in flame as Velgrath slammed both cleavers down into its reactor core. The impact split the vessel in two, sending it tumbling into the dwarf planet's upper atmosphere. The burning wreck fell like a comet, disappearing into the twilight below.
The surviving ships of the Crimson Fervor began to reposition—lights flashing crimson, alarms howling as distant voices shouted over open comms:
"Targets confirmed! The Architect and the Reforged Blade are loose!"
"Containment squads, move now! Choir subjects compromised!"
"Engage all ships—repeat, engage all ships!"
Luto glanced at Onyx, his expression darkening. "Well, brother. I think we just made the list."
Onyx grinned slightly, spinning Varkal'Zir in his hand as the void pressure around him thickened. "We were already on it."
Rha'vess turned toward the incoming ships, his talons flexing, voice rising with newfound resolve. "Then let's show them what the Scourged are capable of."
Luto cracked his neck. "You're catching on quick."
Kessira smiled, petals swirling around her like a black halo. "And here I thought today would be boring."
⸻
The Gentleman of Ash and Iron
(Earlier)
The Scourged camp lay silent beneath the crimson hue of the hovering warship.
It blotted out the faint stars above—its hull shaped like a fractured cathedral, jagged and adorned with crimson banners that rippled in the vacuum. Dim white embers drifted from its underside as if the air itself was burning.
Below, Zha'Kor stood alone in the clearing. The other Scourged—every hybrid, every malformed survivor of the Belt—had taken shelter deep within the ship-tombs, their pale eyes glowing faintly in the dark.
Even Vaelyra had been forced below ground. She had cried, clinging to her father's arm, protesting that she could help, that she could hear them coming. But Zha'Kor had touched her forehead gently, whispering:
"Your heart is not a weapon, my little one. Not yet."
And now he stood in her stead.
The Resonant Dread.
Lord of the Scourged.
His black wings folded like blades behind him, the faint hum of his resonance pulsing against the planet's thin air. He could feel the heat of the ship's reactors above, radiating like the breath of a god.
The voice came before the figure.
Smooth. Amused. Refined.
"Ah. So this is where the great monsters made their nest."
Zha'Kor's eyes narrowed.
A beam of red light sliced through the air, forming a narrow platform from the ship's underside. A figure descended along it, each step echoing like the toll of a distant clock.
He was… human, or something that wore the shape convincingly.
Tall, lean, his posture immaculate. He wore a long, double-breasted tailcoat of black and silver—but the coat shimmered, shifting between fabric and metal, like a living material that obeyed his will. Beneath it, his vest glowed faintly with runic embroidery, and a pocket watch hung from his waist—not ticking, but pulsing with cosmic rhythm.
His shoes were polished black—except the soles left faint crimson prints that burned briefly on the air before fading. A top hat tilted slightly on his head, and beneath it, his eyes gleamed the deep color of old wine.
His voice was the voice of a man who had dined with gods and mocked them afterward.
"Marvelous view, really. One might almost call it… poetic. Creatures of sin and ruin, huddled in the bones of the divine's mistakes."
He stepped forward off the beam and landed effortlessly on the ground, adjusting his cuffs.
Zha'Kor's claws tightened. "Name yourself."
The man smiled pleasantly. "Oh, where are my manners? My name is Aurelian Voss—though the Crimson Fervor prefer 'Commander Voss.' A bit dramatic, isn't it? Titles always are."
Zha'Kor's voice rumbled like thunder. "You lead the ones who desecrate these skies."
"Oh, please." Voss waved a gloved hand dismissively. "Desecrate? Such an uncouth word. I'd call it… renovation. After all, this belt was long abandoned, was it not? Just dust, debris, and a few old nightmares left behind."
He smiled wider, teeth perfectly white—too perfect. "And you must be one of those nightmares."
Zha'Kor stepped forward, the ground trembling beneath him. "Leave. Now."
Voss didn't flinch. Instead, he drew something from his coat pocket—a silver cane capped with a small, rotating gyroscope that emitted faint red light. When he spoke again, his tone softened to near sympathy.
"I read about you, you know. The Resonant Dread. Once a rebel general. A martyr of failed science. And now, a father protecting broken things."
His crimson eyes flicked toward the ground below—toward the caverns where Vaelyra and the others hid.
"Tell me, Zha'Kor… have you ever considered that perhaps mercy is the cruelest sin of all?"
Zha'Kor's body tensed, resonance energy rippling through his veins like molten sound. "You dare speak of mercy, butcher?"
"Ah, there it is," Voss said brightly, as though delighted. "That raw defiance. It's admirable, really. Makes you easy to find."
The gyroscope at the tip of his cane began to spin faster, emitting a high-pitched hum. "You see, my dear Dread, I wasn't sent here for your little sanctuary. I came for a signal. Something… alien to this place. Something that burns brighter than it should."
Zha'Kor's expression darkened. "…Ryu."
"Ryu?" Voss tilted his head, lips curling. "Ah, so the name does have an owner. How quaint. Then it seems I'll have to thank him personally—after I'm done cleaning up the pests."
The cane clicked once.
The hum became a roar.
The ship above ignited its lower cannons, crimson energy gathering at its core.
Zha'Kor lunged forward, slamming his claws into the ground, sending a pulse of resonance through the camp—walls of compressed sound bursting upward to shield the caverns.
Voss didn't move. He only smiled as dust and debris swirled around him.
"Good. Let's see how long your voice can stand against mine."
⸻
Detonation and Dread
The silence before the battle was suffocating.
The crimson glow of the warship above flickered across Zha'Kor's scaled face as dust and fragments of wreckage drifted lazily in the air. His wings unfurled, the deep resonance of his power humming like the bow of a cosmic cello. Every frequency in the air bent toward him.
Aurelian Voss, immaculate as ever, adjusted his silver cufflinks. His expression was one of a man listening to a dull speech at a dinner party.
"Oh, splendid. The beast of the belt does tricks."
Zha'Kor's eyes burned. "You talk too much."
He raised both hands. The ground split.
A pulse of pure sound erupted from him—thousands of compressed resonance waves shattering the air as they tore toward Aurelian. The shockwaves glimmered like blue glass, collapsing everything in their path.
Aurelian tilted his head slightly.
Then—snap.
The world detonated.
The sound waves exploded midair, bursting into incandescent fire. The force rolled outward, slamming into Zha'Kor and tearing through the metallic hulls of half-buried ships.
When the smoke cleared, Aurelian stood untouched, smiling faintly as the ash drifted around him.
"Fascinating resonance structure. You compress sound into form, then detonate it to destabilize matter. But you see…"
He raised his gloved hand and snapped again, another flicker of scarlet igniting behind him.
"Explosions are rather my thing."
Zha'Kor's mind raced. His sound waves were being turned into fuel—converted into explosions.
He roared, wings spreading wide, and launched another barrage—shorter, sharper bursts of vibration this time, bouncing from every angle.
Snap. Snap. Snap.
Each burst turned to flame before reaching Aurelian, forming a halo of explosions around the gentleman's form. He stood amid it all, straightening his hat as if brushing off rain.
"My dear Dread, you'll have to forgive me—this is all terribly one-note."
Zha'Kor abandoned range combat altogether. He lunged forward, his clawed fist slicing through the heat.
Aurelian pivoted effortlessly, sidestepping every strike. His movements were graceful, deliberate—a duelist's precision disguised as theater.
Zha'Kor roared again, feinting left before driving his right arm downward in a devastating swing. The ground caved under the force—missed by inches.
And then—Aurelian's gloved hand caught his forearm.
That smile returned. Small. Knowing.
"Ah. There we are."
For a heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then Zha'Kor heard it.
The pulse beneath the skin. The vibration in his bones.
He knew instantly what was coming.
He didn't hesitate.
With a roar that shook the valley, Zha'Kor tore through his own arm—a clean, brutal slice—and leapt backward just as the limb ignited.
The explosion consumed half the clearing.
Zha'Kor hit the ground hard, blood spraying as molten heat scorched the air. His severed arm was gone—reduced to cinders.
Aurelian stepped through the fire, clapping slowly.
"Bravo! I was almost certain you'd be too proud to do that. You surprise me, my good Dread."
He stopped in front of Zha'Kor, who knelt on one knee, clutching his stump.
"Now, about the matter at hand. The boy. Ryu, was it?"
Zha'Kor glared up at him, panting. "You'll never touch him."
Aurelian sighed softly. "And yet, you're in no position to bargain."
His gaze shifted—to movement in the shadows.
Vaelyra.
Peeking from behind the wreckage of a broken cruiser, her small violet eyes wide with terror.
"Ah," Aurelian murmured. "So this is what you protect. How utterly human of you."
Zha'Kor's resonance flared. "Leave her out of this!"
Aurelian smiled thinly. "I despise involving children. Really, I do. But desperate times—"
Before the sentence finished, he vanished.
Zha'Kor blinked—and Aurelian was already behind Vaelyra, lifting her effortlessly by the back of her collar. She froze, too shocked to scream.
Zha'Kor's single eye went wide. "PUT HER DOWN!"
Aurelian held her with one arm, examining her as though she were an insect in amber. His voice softened mockingly.
"Charming creature. Such delicate resonance. I can almost hear her heartbeat."
He raised his free hand—five fingers spread.
Zha'Kor's roar shook the sky. "NO!"
Aurelian smiled faintly. "I truly do hate this part."
He snapped—
But the world didn't explode.
A tremor rippled through the air instead.
Both of them turned toward the horizon as a flash of fiery light streaked across the belt, breaking through clouds of wreckage and smoke.
The belt shook.
Aurelian's lips curled into an elegant grin.
"Ah… never mind. It appears I won't have to go looking after all."
He looked down at Vaelyra, whose trembling gaze reflected the incoming light.
"Your guest is already on his way."
The light grew brighter—an orange flare tearing through the belt like a comet on fire.
Ryu was coming.
⸻
The Gentleman's Proposal
The hum of the warship's engines was steady—like the patient heartbeat of something ancient.
Aurelian Voss exhaled softly, straightening his sleeves as the acrid wind whipped through the wreckage. Below him, Zha'Kor writhed, one arm gone, his resonance trembling like a dying drumbeat. Vaelyra's small form trembled beside him, her wide eyes reflecting the firelit sky.
"Alaric!"
The command carried effortlessly over the sound of collapsing metal. A shadow moved at the edge of the clearing—a tall man in ornate crimson armor, faceless beneath a porcelain mask streaked with gold.
Aurelian didn't bother looking. He simply tossed Vaelyra toward the subordinate. The child yelped as the soldier caught her roughly by the arm.
"Get the child away from me," Aurelian said, brushing nonexistent dust from his coat. "Take her to the ship. I need the perfect environment to make my proposal."
He laughed—an elegant, haunting sound that somehow made the air colder.
Zha'Kor blinked through the haze, confused, voice gravelled. "P… proposal? What are you—"
He never finished the question.
The sky tore open.
A flare of crimson fire streaked downward like divine vengeance, slamming into the center of the camp with a roar that deafened the world. The explosion of light scattered everything—metal, dust, and ash flying in a storm that rippled through the entire belt.
The ground caved. The air warped.
When the smoke parted, Ryu stood in the crater—shirt in tatters, skin cracked with molten flame-light, hair whipping wildly in the heat. His aura flared with the faint hum of something ancient.
He didn't say a word at first. He just walked forward.
Aurelian sat casually atop a piece of shattered machinery, legs crossed, fingers drumming lightly against his knee. He watched Ryu's approach like a man admiring a painting.
Ryu's eyes darted to Zha'Kor's bloodied form, then back to Aurelian.
His voice was low, sharp.
"Who the hell are you?"
Aurelian smiled, tilting his head. "My apologies. Where are my manners?"
He stood, posture perfect, and offered a small, theatrical bow.
"Aurelian Voss. Commander of the Crimson Fervor. Visionary, innovator… and, if I'm lucky, the next one true god."
Ryu blinked, unimpressed. "You what?"
Zha'Kor coughed violently, forcing the words out. "Ryu, he's—don't listen to—"
"Shhh." Aurelian lifted a gloved finger, silencing him without even looking.
His crimson eyes glimmered as he turned back to Ryu.
"Tell me something, Ryu," he said smoothly. "Have you had the chance to kill a god yet?"
Ryu froze mid-step.
Even Zha'Kor's remaining breath caught in his throat.
"…What did you just say?" Ryu asked, voice now dangerously quiet.
Aurelian smiled wider, the picture of poise. "The multiverse sings your praises, you know. The boy who defied divine order. The slayer of the Sentients. The mortals' chosen champion."
His tone shifted—still calm, but dripping with mockery.
"Except that isn't what happened, is it? They ran. Tails between their legs. You didn't defeat them—you survived them."
The words hit like stones.
Ryu's fire flared hotter, the air shimmering around him. "You got a lot of nerve running your mouth for someone hiding behind theatrics."
"Oh, I assure you, I hide behind nothing," Aurelian replied. "I've simply learned restraint—a language you and your brothers have yet to master."
Ryu took another step forward.
Zha'Kor tried to push himself up, but the ground shook again as Aurelian spread his arms slightly, voice rising.
"You three possess strength, yes. Potential, certainly. But you lack control. You burn and rage and break the walls you could one day rule."
He turned his back to Ryu, speaking almost wistfully.
"You want freedom from the gods. I seek the same. The difference, my dear boy, is that I intend to replace them."
He turned again, that crimson grin widening.
"So here's my proposal."
Aurelian pointed directly at Ryu, his glove gleaming faintly from reflected firelight.
"Join me. You, your brothers—serve under the banner of the Crimson Fervor. Help me shape the new multiverse, free of gods, free of masters."
He paused.
"Because if you don't…"
Aurelian's eyes glowed like dying suns.
"…then I'll simply have to burn this one down myself."
The wind howled through the ruins.
Ryu stood there in silence, fire flickering around his fists, unreadable.
Zha'Kor, still kneeling, could barely breathe as the tension thickened between them—two cosmic forces staring each other down in the middle of a dying world.
A single ember drifted through the air between them.
Aurelian smirked faintly.
"Well then… what will it be, 'Flameborn'?"