The sky was black.
The earth was ash.
The world was dying.
In the ruins of the Eastern Capital,
amidst the burning streets and shattered towers,
Arin Veyla stood.
Broken.
Bleeding.
Unbowed.
Around her, the last survivors gathered.
Not soldiers.
Not heroes.
Only people.
A boy no older than ten, clutching a cracked sword too heavy for him.
A mother with one arm missing, fire burning in her hollow eyes.
An old man with no magic left, dragging a rusted spear behind him.
The last breath of humanity.
The last heartbeat of a broken species.
Arin raised her voice, raw and shaking:
"We fight.
Not because we believe we can win.
But because this is our world.
And if it must fall —
It falls with us standing.
It falls remembering we tried.
It falls with light still burning in our blood."
A broken cheer rose into the poisoned sky.
Thin.
Frail.
Beautiful.
Far across the shattered battlefield,
Asura watched.
Silent.
Unmoving.
Unforgiving.
He saw no enemies.
No heroes.
No children.
Only obstacles.
Only relics of a broken world that needed to be erased.
Inside his mind, the System whispered:
[Dominion Completion: 96%.]
[World Collapse Event: 89% Complete.]
[Recommended Action: Absolute Eradication.]
Asura ignored it.
He needed no advice.
No orders.
Only resolve.
He would build a new world.
One without betrayal.
One without cruelty.
One without weakness.
A pure world.
A silent world.
A world of his own making.
But first —
this old world had to die.
The survivors charged.
Led by a girl with cracked armor, bleeding hands, and an unbroken soul.
Arin led the last stand.
The clash was inevitable.
Light Sigils flared.
Rusted swords screamed against abyssal shadows.
Shattered shields broke under claw and flame.
Arin fought at the front.
Every strike burning her bones.
Every breath a rebellion against fate.
Every heartbeat a refusal to kneel.
Inside her mind, the emotions tore her apart.
Hope.
Rage.
Grief.
Love.
And a rising, unbearable truth:
"I can't save him.
If I want to save the world —
I have to kill him."
The thought ripped her heart in two.
She had wanted to reach him.
Wanted to believe.
Wanted to pull him back from the abyss.
But there was no boy left.
Only the abyss.
Only Asura.
Still, she fought.
Still, she burned.
Still, she led the final charge.
Above them, Asura moved.
Not rushing.
Not fighting.
Just walking forward.
One step at a time.
And with every step,
the world cracked a little more.