FLASHBACK – 10 Years Ago
The afternoon sun brushed across the fields of Salt Blake, painting the horizon in gold.
In the courtyard of the old Blake mansion, two young girls were sparring.
Training blades clashed, sparking flashes of blue. The sound of strikes echoed through the hallways, mixing with laughter and playful taunts.
"Come on, Nyra! You're going easy on me!" Kimberly shouted, sweat dripping down her face, her eyes burning with determination.
"I'm not going easy," Nyra replied, cold and composed as ever, spinning gracefully to deflect her sister's strike.
"You're just losing balance again."
Kimberly charged forward with a yell, but Nyra's blade slid past her attack and stopped at her throat.
"Point for me," Nyra said, expressionless.
"Oh, come on! You didn't even blink! It's like fighting a statue!" Kimberly huffed, tossing her wooden sword aside.
Nyra gave a small, rare smile.
"Maybe that's why I always win."
The two burst out laughing — and in that moment, the contrast between them was clear: Kimberly, fiery and impulsive; Nyra, calm and calculating. Yet their bond was real — unbreakable.
From the veranda, a gentle voice called out.
"Girls…"
Alyra, their mother, watched with a soft smile. Her silver hair swayed in the wind.
"You need to learn to fight not just with strength… but with purpose."
Kimberly, panting, protested,
"But Mom, she doesn't even give me a chance!"
"Nyra seeks control. You seek instinct," Alyra said, kneeling before them.
"When you learn to balance both… you'll be unstoppable."
She placed a hand on each of their chests.
"The blood running through you is both a blessing and a burden. But never forget… one protects the other. Always."
Moments later, their father, Christopher, appeared carrying a wooden chest.
"Hope you're ready for the next step," he said with a proud smile.
The sisters exchanged a look — a silent promise.
Night of the Tragedy – Hours Before the Attack
The mansion was quiet. Alyra fastened a small pendant around Kimberly's neck.
"This pendant is a bond, my dear. It will shine whenever your heart burns brightest."
Meanwhile, Christopher handed an amulet to Nyra.
"The moon will guide you, daughter. Even in darkness, it will always find your path."
The two sisters shared one last look that night.
Neither knew it would be their final moment of peace.
That night, the clans attacked.
Alyra took Kimberly and ordered her to hide in the cellar, no matter what.
Meanwhile, Nyra — arriving home late — was met by Christopher, who told her to run as far as she could.
He promised they would protect Kimberly. His final words burned into her memory:
"Be strong where I was not…
Protect what I could not…"
From the top of the hill, Nyra saw her home engulfed in flames.
She wanted to run back, but the weight of her father's command held her still.
She felt weak. Useless. Powerless.
When the last ember died, she believed everyone she loved was gone.
She fled into the world, carrying guilt like a scar.
Convinced she had failed her family, she swore to become stronger — no matter the cost.
Her heart hardened. Her emotions turned to steel.
To her, weakness became sin, and strength, redemption.
Meanwhile, Alyra, before closing the cellar door over Kimberly, whispered her last words:
"Your father and I will try to come back… but if we don't, be strong, Kimberly.
Run far away.
Change your name. Start a new life — away from all this.
We'll find Nyra.
I love you… my little Strawberry."
PRESENT DAY – Top of Highspire
The sound of acid rain and roaring wind returned.
Kimberly stood frozen, blood running down her face as she stared at the impossible.
Nyra. Alive.
"You… you're not… dead?" she muttered, voice trembling.
Karmila appeared beside Nyra, her violet eyes gleaming like gemstones.
"It wasn't easy convincing your little sister to join us," she said, her tone venomous.
"But everyone has a price. And her thirst for power… was the perfect invitation."
Karmila raised her hand — and the mark of the Circle glowed on Nyra's shoulder, pulsing like a living heart.
Kimberly clenched her fists.
"You… marked her."
She lunged forward, but Nyra moved in an instant, appearing between her and Karmila.
"The fight's not over yet, sister," she said coldly.
Karmila smiled theatrically.
"I'll let you two settle this. Have fun, girls."
With that, she vanished into a swirl of purple mist.
Kimberly glared at Nyra, her voice cracking between rage and pain.
"So that's it? You'll just let that witch control you?"
Nyra's gaze remained steady, emotionless.
"This isn't control. It's power. And I've finally claimed it."
"Power without will isn't power," Kimberly spat. "It's a cage."
Nyra unsheathed her blade — Kaburami, the steel reflecting the ritual's red glow.
"This sword was Father's gift. I've perfected it through the years, waiting for this moment — the day I'd prove I'm the strongest.
And that day… is today."
Kimberly lifted her head, blood and tears mixing on her face.
"Then so be it," she whispered, drawing her weapon.
"Even if I have to stop my own sister."
The air exploded in light and sound.
Steel met steel — fire and silver colliding in fury.
Nyra struck fast and sharp, every move a storm of precision. Kimberly blocked and countered, her arms shaking from each impact.
Flashes of memory flickered between the blows —
their laughter, their training, their mother's embrace, their oath to protect one another.
A side slash — Kimberly dodged.
Another strike — blocked, but her shoulder was cut.
Blood.
Pain.
Rage.
She swung back with a fiery slash, but Nyra regenerated — her wounds sealing fast, fueled by her werewolf blood.
"You'll never catch me, Kim," Nyra said flatly.
"That's not what Dad would say," Kimberly replied, breathless.
Their blades clashed again — red and blue energy bursting across the rooftop.
At the edge of Highspire, the storm howled around them.
Kimberly, trembling, met Nyra's cold gaze.
"This is what you wanted? This is why you survived?"
For an instant, Nyra hesitated. Her expression softened —
then vanished.
"It's too late."
They charged.
Steel, fire, screams — and then, a single fatal strike.
Nyra feinted, then drove Kaburami through Kimberly's chest.
The sound of steel piercing flesh echoed across the tower.
Kimberly's eyes widened.
Blood spilled, hot against the silver blade.
She looked at Nyra — a faint, sorrowful smile on her lips.
"I'm sorry… sis."
Nyra kicked her away.
Kimberly's body fell — off the top of Highspire, into the void.
Karmila clapped slowly.
"Bravo."
The world spun. The wind screamed.
As Kimberly fell, flashes filled her mind — her mother's smile, her father's laugh, Nyra's voice.
Tears mixed with blood.
"So this… is how it ends…"
Then came flashes of her friends — Roshi, Roberto, Mandy… Tory, Ryan, Trent, Bruno, Vikor, Hector.
Everyone she'd fought for.
A whisper left her lips — a mix of sorrow and fury.
"If only I were stronger… If I had enough power… I could've saved them all…"
And then — the pendant around her neck began to glow.
It pulsed like a heartbeat.
Crimson light spread, sparks bursting from her eyes before wrapping her in a cocoon of energy.
From the blaze formed a dark sphere, veined with red.
Inside it, the pendant melted into liquid blood — reshaping itself into a colossal blade, silver and crimson, with an open eye at its guard.
The eye turned toward her.
A voice echoed in her mind:
"You seek power… then wield me."
Kimberly reached out, tears streaming down her face.
Her sorrow twisted into rage — and she screamed.
The moment her fingers touched the hilt, the eye flared —
and a burst of crimson light shot skyward, piercing the clouds above Highspire.
A thunderous shockwave.
Nyra was thrown back, hit by a devastating force that shattered the rooftop.
Karmila froze — shock flickering across her face for the first time.
From the smoke… Kimberly emerged.
Her body was marked in black sigils, wings like those of a bat spreading from her back.
Her eyes burned red.
A crimson, spiked pauldron covered her right shoulder.
And in her hands — the living sword, its eye glaring back at Nyra.
The air trembled around her — dense, divine, overflowing with ancient power.
Nyra, still on the ground, looked up in disbelief.
"What… what kind of power is that? What kind of monster… are you?"
Kimberly stepped forward, her voice deeper now — filled with pain and resolve.
"The kind… that will save her sister."
TO BE CONTINUED...