On a day that seemed more ordinary than it should have been, Tremo left with Neva under a deceptively warm sun.
He told Ravan as he hurriedly fastened his coat:
"I'll be back by evening."
Ravan only nodded.
He said nothing.
He wasn't at ease—not because of Tremo, but because of the city itself.
From the moment they set foot in this place, he had felt something moving beneath the surface, like an old wound that had never truly healed.
That same day, Ravan went to the doctor.
The injuries from previous battles had not fully closed, and his spirit… was in far worse shape than his body.
But as he sat on the cold wooden chair, something felt wrong.
Time was passing.
Evening drew closer.
And Tremo… did not return.
When the doctor casually mentioned Tremo's name, everything changed.
At that exact moment, a sharp tightening seized Ravan's chest, as if something inside him screamed.
"I'm done," he said suddenly as he stood up.
He didn't wait for permission.
He clenched his tense muscles, ignored the pain, and left.
He knew exactly where to go.
The garden.
That garden Neva always took Tremo to.
A beautiful place… too beautiful.
Beautiful to the point of suspicion.
Ravan rushed through the alleys as the sunset slowly devoured the sky.
With every step, an old feeling returned to him:
This place… was not new.
Behind the garden, inside the mountain, he found the entrance.
A dark, ancient crack, carefully concealed.
A place that had once been a base for an organization long since divided.
An organization that experimented on humans… and transformed them.
He entered.
The air inside was heavy, saturated with the smell of blood and damp stone.
He moved carefully until he reached a wide chamber.
There… he saw it.
He did not enter.
He stopped in the shadows.
Tremo—
Hanging against the wall, bound, completely naked, unconscious.
A few steps away… Neva.
She was not alone.
Men and women wearing identical ritual-like garments stood with her.
Their faces were cold.
Ravan recognized them instantly.
He smiled.
"I knew it."
He said it calmly—terrifyingly so.
At that moment, they turned toward him.
Ravan stepped into the chamber without warning and drew his sword in a single motion.
The laugh that escaped him was unnatural… insane.
"But you're not the ones who'll kill me."
He charged.
What followed was the true Ravan.
His movements were sharp, brutal, without hesitation.
He severed Neva's arm in a single strike before she could even comprehend what was happening.
She screamed—
The sound cut short as his blade pierced another body behind her.
They attacked him from every direction.
But their blows were useless.
Ravan dodged, struck, killed.
He cut off one man's head.
Tore open another's chest.
He laughed as he drowned them in blood.
He wasn't fighting…
He was releasing something that had been sealed away for a long time.
After minutes, nothing remained but scattered remains.
He stood in the center of the chamber, breathing heavily, then looked at Tremo.
The smile faded.
In that moment—
Light.
A sword of pure radiance descended from the cave ceiling.
Behind it stood a man wearing a white mask and a pristine white robe.
The White Sword.
Its incarnation.
Ravan laughed.
Louder.
Crazier.
"So… it's you?"
The man did not respond.
He only said coldly:
"I've been waiting for you… brother."
Tremo, still in shock, did not understand.
He did not know that this man… was his older brother.
The one who had died—
Or so he believed.
Ravan lunged forward.
The White Sword evaded with a high leap, then split Ravan's chest with a single strike.
Blood burst forth.
But Ravan did not retreat.
His rage exploded.
Kanto awakened.
He attacked—severing the White Sword's arm, then his head, then his body…
Tearing him apart before Tremo's eyes.
The remains fell—
Then vanished.
He reappeared behind Ravan.
A stab.
A blow.
Ravan was sent flying and crashed violently to the ground.
The impact shook the cave.
The rocks began to collapse.
Ravan tried to rise…
But inside, he was more broken than his body.
"I failed…"
His voice cracked.
"I failed you…"
Before him lay a vial of demon blood.
He looked at it.
He would not abandon Tremo like this.
He injected himself.
Darkness consumed him.
The last thing Tremo heard—
Was the White Sword whispering:
"I'll be waiting for you in the north… brother."
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