CHAPTER 23 — The Serpent's Reign
Florida no longer looked like a city.
From the air, Silva could see it spread below him like a wound — streets cracked and pulsing faint red, skyscrapers half-shattered, smoke spiraling from broken towers. The night sky was veined with lightning that never touched the ground. And at the center of it all, where the old Federal Plaza once stood, rose a black spire.
The Serpent's mark.
Silva landed on the roof of a burned-out train station. The air tasted of ash and blood. Down below, figures moved in silence — not soldiers, not men anymore, but the warped remains of them. Skin marked by glowing red veins, eyes empty, walking in disciplined lines toward the spire.
The Serpent's army. Jared's army.
He pulled the hood of his cloak tighter and whispered, "So this is what you built, brother."
He moved through the ruins like a shadow, stepping over bodies long gone cold.
Every few blocks he stopped, listening. The city was alive with whispers — not voices, but energy. The Serpent's presence was everywhere, humming through the steel, through the wires, through the blood of anyone still breathing.
Once, a woman stumbled from an alley, eyes wild, muttering prayers. When she saw him, she fell to her knees.
"You— you still have light," she gasped.
Silva knelt beside her. "How many of you are left?"
"Dozens… maybe less. He took the rest. Said the fire will cleanse the weak."
She pointed toward the spire. "Your brother sits there. He calls himself the Serpent King now."
Silva's jaw tightened. "He always did have a talent for names."
He reached into his belt, pressed a glowing crystal into her palm. "When you see this flare, run for the river. There'll be a path."
"What about you?" she asked.
He rose, eyes fixed on the horizon. "I'm going to remind him what family means."
The closer he came to the spire, the worse the air became.
Rain began to fall — not water, but ash mixed with crimson light. Each drop hissed as it hit the ground. The True Flame inside him pulsed in protest, reacting to the corruption surrounding him.
Inside the spire's shadow, creatures prowled.
Once-men. Their bodies stretched by dark energy, their bones crackling with unnatural movement. Silva kept his energy low, sliding between columns, counting every breath.
Then a voice echoed from the dark.
"Still hiding, little flame?"
Silva froze. The voice wasn't Jared's — it was female, sharp and cold. From the mist stepped a woman clad in black armor carved with serpent sigils. Her hair was white as bone, her eyes glowing faint green.
"The new Iron Fist," she said softly. "I expected someone taller."
Silva straightened. "And you are?"
She smiled. "General Nyra. The first of the Serpent's chosen. Your brother sends his love."
Without warning, she struck.
A whip of black energy lashed through the air. Silva dodged, the ground exploding where he'd been. He countered with a burst of golden-red flame, the True Flame roaring to life, but Nyra moved like smoke, twisting around him, striking again.
"You burn bright," she taunted, "but you still burn alone."
Her whip caught his arm, searing through armor. Pain shot through him. He grabbed the chain with his other hand and let the True Flame surge through it. The metal glowed white-hot. Nyra screamed and yanked back, but he was already moving — driving his fist into the ground. The shockwave sent both of them flying.
Dust filled the air.
When it cleared, she was kneeling, breathing hard, a trickle of blood at her lip.
"Impressive," she whispered. "He'll want to see you himself."
The ground split beneath her, forming a circle of red light. Before Silva could move, shadow tendrils lashed out and dragged him down into the darkness.
He landed hard on metal.
When his vision cleared, he was inside the spire — a vast chamber of glass and bone, walls alive with moving patterns of serpents. The air was suffocatingly hot.
And at the center, on a throne of molten steel, sat Jared.
He looked almost human. Almost. His eyes glowed crimson, his veins black as ink. The Serpent's mark coiled around his neck like a crown.
"You came," Jared said, smiling. "I was starting to think you'd learned fear."
Silva's heart pounded. "I came to bring you home."
Jared laughed — a low, hollow sound. "Home? There is no home. The world burns, and only the strong survive. You should understand that better than anyone, brother."
Silva took a step forward. "You're letting it use you."
"Use me?" Jared rose, the floor shuddering beneath his feet. "I am it. The Serpent didn't consume me — I consumed it. Look at me, Silva. I've become everything they said we couldn't be."
He raised his hand. The walls pulsed, alive with power. Images flickered — cities kneeling, armies burning, millions chanting his name.
"The world follows me now," Jared said. "They crave order. They crave fear. They crave fire."
Silva's fists tightened. "No. They crave hope. And I'll give it back, even if I have to burn this place to the ground."
For a heartbeat, silence. Then Jared's smile faded.
"Then burn."
The chamber exploded into chaos.
Jared lunged, red lightning wrapping around his arms. Silva met him head-on, golden and crimson flames colliding mid-air. The blast tore through the room, shattering pillars, hurling both brothers back.
They crashed through walls, through steel, through light itself.
Silva's flame surged wild, fed by emotion. He struck fast, relentless — fists glowing white-hot. Jared blocked each hit, countering with waves of serpentine energy that coiled and struck like living beasts.
Every punch sent echoes through the city above. Windows shattered miles away. The ground trembled.
"You can't win!" Jared shouted, voice layered with the Serpent's hiss. "You fight against the inevitable!"
Silva roared back, "Then I'll be the inevitable!"
He unleashed everything — a cyclone of gold and red, spiraling into a blazing storm. The True Flame clashed with the Serpent's darkness, light and shadow merging into chaos.
At the heart of the explosion, the brothers met again — fists colliding, light swallowing both.
When the glare faded, both stood trembling, breath ragged.
Blood trickled from Silva's lip. Jared's armor was cracked, his glow faltering.
Silva lowered his hand. "It doesn't have to end like this."
Jared's eyes flickered — human, for just a second. Pain, memory, something real. Then the Serpent's voice slithered through him again.
"You don't understand, Silva. There's no going back."
Silva stepped closer. "Then I'll drag you back."
He pressed his palm to Jared's chest, the True Flame blazing through both of them. Jared screamed, the Serpent's mark writhing in agony. Energy tore through the chamber, light ripping across every surface.
The city above lit up like dawn.
When it was over, Jared collapsed.
The spire cracked, flames rising from its base. Silva knelt beside him, smoke curling from his own armor.
Jared's voice was barely a whisper. "You should have… let me burn it all…"
Silva shook his head. "No. Someone has to rebuild what we destroyed."
Jared's hand trembled, reaching for him — then fell limp.
Silva stared at his brother's still form, the world burning around them. For the first time in years, he felt nothing but silence.
Then a new sound — a low rumble from beneath the spire. The Serpent's voice, deeper, ancient, furious.
"You think it ends with him?"
The floor split open, and darkness began to rise — vast, endless, alive.
Silva stood, flames gathering in his fists once more. "Then let's finish it."