The rain hadn't stopped for three days.
It came down in heavy, relentless sheets, soaking the burnt hills and washing the blood from forgotten battlefields. Silva walked through the storm like a shadow himself — hood up, eyes cold, every breath clouded with steam. The golden ember of the Iron Flame glowed faintly through his chest, pulsing in rhythm with his heart.
Ahead, the ruins of the old city waited. Once, it had been called Vel'Dura, a place of learning and light. Now, it was a graveyard — a sprawl of cracked towers and flooded streets, ruled by whispers of The Hand.
Silva stood at the ridge and watched lightning slash across the skyline. A red glow pulsed at the heart of the ruins — the Sanctum. His destination.
Kalun's warning echoed through his mind: You cannot stop him unless you face him… or save him.
Silva exhaled slowly. "Then let's end this."
He descended through the outskirts, moving silent as smoke.
The streets were filled with ghosts — not the supernatural kind, but the human remnants of war: broken walls, scattered weapons, and the faint sound of chanting from below.
The deeper he went, the thicker the air became — charged with energy, humming through the stones like the heartbeat of a sleeping beast.
He reached the edge of an underground gate. Two masked guards of The Hand stood watch, blades gleaming. Silva closed his eyes and pressed his palm to the ground. The flame flared gold beneath the earth — a ripple of heat raced outward.
The guards looked down in confusion.
Then the floor erupted.
A shockwave sent both men crashing into the walls. By the time they stirred, Silva was already gone — a streak of fire vanishing into the tunnels below.
The passage led to an ancient subway line converted into a war temple. Red banners fluttered along the rails, inscribed with serpentine symbols. The smell of incense and iron filled the air.
Torches burned with black fire, casting shadows that seemed to move on their own.
And beneath it all — that whisper. A voice so faint, Silva couldn't tell if it was real.
Silva…
He stopped. The whisper slid through the darkness like smoke.
You've come far… too far to turn back.
"Jared?"
No answer. Only a faint, amused hiss — the sound of the Serpent.
Silva kept walking, his hands glowing faintly. His footsteps echoed between the pillars until he reached a massive stone door.
In its center, carved deep, was the same sigil that burned on Jared's chest — the mark of the Serpent.
He touched it. The door trembled, then split open with a groaning sigh.
Inside was a hall that stretched endlessly.
Flames hung suspended in midair, burning crimson instead of gold. At the far end, a figure knelt before an altar — the unmistakable silhouette of Jared.
Silva's breath caught. The light around his brother shimmered, revealing veins of energy crawling through his skin like molten metal.
"Jared," Silva called softly. "It doesn't have to end like this."
Jared didn't move. "You shouldn't have come."
Silva stepped closer. "You're losing yourself. The Serpent is using you—"
Jared's head snapped up. His eyes blazed red. "Don't pretend you care about saving me, Silva. You just want to erase your guilt."
"I want my brother back!"
"You can't have him," Jared snarled. "He burned the day you left me to die."
The torches flared. Shadows crawled across the floor, circling Silva like wolves.
Silva clenched his fists. "Then I'll burn through whatever's left."
The air exploded between them.
Jared shot forward, his blade wreathed in crimson energy. Silva blocked with a burst of golden fire, the impact shaking the entire chamber. Sparks rained down.
Every strike was faster than the last — two forces of the same bloodline, two halves of one flame. Jared fought like a man possessed, his movements cruel and precise. Silva countered with fluid strikes, each one glowing with the heat of the Iron Flame.
They clashed again, blades of fire screaming through the air.
"You don't understand what the Serpent showed me!" Jared shouted, pressing him back. "He revealed the truth about the Flame — it's a cage! A curse meant to keep us weak!"
"It's power meant to protect!" Silva countered, blocking a strike that sent molten sparks flying.
Jared twisted, catching Silva across the chest. The blow threw him against the altar. Pain rippled through him, but he refused to fall.
He looked up — and saw Jared's face flicker. For a split second, behind the fury, he saw fear.
"Jared… you're scared."
Jared's eyes widened — then hardened. "Of becoming you? Never."
He raised his hands. Red light surged, forming a sphere of destructive energy. The Serpent's voice whispered from the walls, feeding his rage.
Burn him. Burn everything.
Silva stood, blood trickling down his arm. "If you're lost, then I'll find you in the fire."
He charged. Their powers collided — gold against crimson. The explosion shattered the hall.
When the smoke cleared, both brothers were on their knees, panting. The altar was cracked, and the walls around them trembled.
"Look at what we've done," Silva muttered. "This isn't strength, Jared. It's slavery."
Jared's voice broke. "You don't get it… I need this. The Serpent promised—"
"Promised what?"
"That I could change the past."
Silva froze. "The past?"
Jared looked away, tears burning through the dust on his face. "He said I could bring her back. Mom. Dad. Everyone."
Silva's heart clenched. "He's lying."
Jared laughed bitterly. "Then why does it feel real?"
Because the Serpent wanted him to believe. It fed on regret — on everything Silva had tried to bury.
He took a step closer, lowering his guard. "Listen to me. The past isn't meant to be fixed. It's meant to be faced."
Jared's hands trembled. The red light flickered, dimming. For a heartbeat, his real voice came through — fragile, human.
"Silva… I don't know who I am anymore."
Silva reached out. "Then let me remind you."
Their hands almost touched—
Then the chamber roared.
The ground split open, and a massive serpent of fire and shadow erupted from beneath the altar. Its eyes glowed with endless hunger. The Serpent itself had manifested, drawn by the clash of their souls.
It coiled around them, its voice shaking the air.
You cannot escape me. You are both mine.
Jared screamed as the shadow wrapped around him, fusing with his body. His veins turned black, the crimson light burning brighter.
"NO!" Silva shouted. He grabbed Jared's arm, the golden flame flaring with desperate strength. "You're not taking him!"
Then burn with him!
The serpent's energy surged through them both — gold and red spiraling into chaos. The walls shattered, light consuming everything.
When the world finally stilled, Silva was lying in rubble, coughing, vision blurred. The Sanctum was in ruins. The serpent was gone… but so was Jared.
He forced himself up, staggering toward the altar. Only ashes remained — and in the center, a single mark burned into the stone: the sigil of the Serpent, now half-golden.
The Iron Flame inside Silva flickered, weaker than before. Something was missing — torn from him.
He whispered, "Jared…"
Outside, the storm had stopped. The city was silent. But somewhere in the distance, a red light pulsed against the horizon — faint, but alive.
Jared wasn't dead. He was becoming something else.
Silva turned toward the light, exhaustion and fury mingling in his eyes.