The corridors were endless.
Ami led the strike force through the twisting passages, her blade drawn, her eyes scanning the darkness. The symbols on the walls pulsed with faint energy, casting long shadows across the stone floor.
They had been searching for hours.
No sign of Aurelion. No sign of the Demon King. Just the endless maze of corridors and chambers, each one identical to the last.
Corrin checked his datapad, his brow furrowed. "We're circling. The layout keeps shifting. I can't get a fix on our position."
"The fortress is alive," Kael said quietly. "It's changing. Adapting. Trying to keep us lost."
Ami didn't stop walking. "Then we keep moving."
They turned a corner—
And stopped.
In the distance, a muffled explosion echoed through the stone. The ground trembled beneath their feet. Dust rained from the ceiling.
Ami's blood went cold.
"That's him," she said.
Corrin frowned. "How do you know?"
"Because it's always him." She was already moving. "Come on."
They ran.
The corridors blurred past as they raced toward the source of the explosions. The symbols on the walls pulsed faster, brighter, as if reacting to the chaos unfolding deeper in the fortress.
Another explosion. Closer this time.
Ami pushed harder, her legs burning, her heart pounding. She could feel it—a presence at the edge of her consciousness, familiar and desperate.
Aurelion, she thought. Hold on. We're coming.
They rounded another corner—
And stopped.
The corridor ahead was a ruin. Walls collapsed. Stone shattered. The remains of what had once been a chamber lay scattered across the floor.
Ami stepped over the debris, her eyes scanning the destruction.
"He was here," she said. "Recently."
Corrin knelt beside a patch of blood—dark, still wet. "He's wounded."
"How badly?"
He shook his head. "I don't know."
Ryuta studied the destruction, his expression grim. "The Demon King did this. He's not just fighting—he's trying to destroy him."
Kael moved to the far end of the corridor, his pistols drawn, his eyes scanning the darkness. "There's a passage here. Fresh tracks."
"Where does it lead?"
He was silent for a moment. Then: "Deeper. Toward the center."
Ami nodded. "Then we follow."
They moved into the passage.
It was narrow, dark, its walls rough and unworked. The air was cold, heavy, thick with the scent of dust and old blood. The symbols on the walls were faded here, barely visible.
They moved in silence, their footsteps muffled by the debris.
Ami could feel it—the presence pressing against her mind, growing stronger with each step. The Demon King was close. And so was Aurelion.
Just a little further, she thought. Just a little—
She heard it first.
Footsteps.
Heavy. Slow. Deliberate.
Coming from behind them.
Ami froze.
The others froze with her.
The footsteps grew closer—a steady, measured rhythm that echoed off the walls. They were not running. They were not hurrying.
They were hunting.
Ami turned slowly, her blade raised, her heart pounding.
A figure emerged from the darkness.
He was tall—taller than any demon she had seen. His armor was black as void, its surface covered in scars and scratches that told the story of centuries of combat. His helmet was featureless, a smooth mask of obsidian that revealed nothing of the face beneath. In his hands, a great axe—its massive head gleaming with a light that was not quite light, its edge sharp enough to split stone.
Malagar.
The executioner.
Ami's blood ran cold.
She remembered him. The attack on the base. The way he had cut through soldiers like they were nothing. The way he had looked at her—like she was already dead.
The executioner had found them.
No, she thought. Not now. Not when we're so close.
Malagar stopped at the edge of the corridor, his featureless helmet tilting slightly, as if he was studying them.
"Valley's Watch," he said.
His voice was flat, emotionless. It echoed off the walls, pressed against their ears, their minds, their souls.
"You've traveled far," he continued. "Across oceans. Through battles. Past defenses that should have killed you." He paused. "Impressive. But pointless."
Corrin raised his spear, his shield strapped to his arm. "We're not here to fight you."
"No," Malagar agreed. "You're here to die."
He moved.
Faster than anything that size should move. His great axe cut through the air in a devastating arc, aimed at Corrin's chest.
Corrin blocked—barely. The impact sent him staggering back, his shield cracked, his arm numb. The force of the blow drove him to his knees.
Ryuta was already moving, his katana flashing in the dim light. His blade met Malagar's axe, the impact sending sparks flying through the darkness.
"You're fast," Malagar observed. "But speed is not enough."
He pushed.
Ryuta flew backward, crashing into the wall. He hit the ground, rolled, came up with his blade still raised.
Malagar turned to Ami.
"You," he said. "I remember you."
Ami raised her blade. "I remember you too."
"Good." He stepped closer, his great axe resting on his shoulder. "Then you know what I'm capable of."
"I know you're going to lose."
He laughed—a cold, hollow sound.
"Confident," he said. "Foolish. But confident."
He attacked.
Ami met him head-on.
The battle was brutal.
Malagar was faster than anything she had faced. His great axe was a blur of death, his movements precise, his power overwhelming. He drove her back with each strike, his attacks relentless.
Corrin joined the fight, his spear finding gaps in Malagar's guard. Ryuta attacked from the flank, his katana flashing. Kael fired from a distance, his pistols humming with energy.
But Malagar was unstoppable.
He deflected Corrin's spear with the haft of his axe, sidestepped Ryuta's blade, and caught Kael's shots on his armor like they were nothing. He moved through their attacks like water through rocks, untouchable, unstoppable.
The great axe swung in a wide arc, forcing them all back. The sheer weight of the weapon sent shockwaves through the air.
"You are persistent," he observed. "But persistence is not victory."
He struck.
Corrin flew backward, his shield shattered, his spear clattering across the floor. Ryuta staggered, his katana cracked. Kael collapsed, his pistols empty.
Ami was alone.
She stood before Malagar, her blade raised, her body trembling. The executioner looked at her with his featureless mask, his great axe dripping with ichor.
"Any last words?" he asked.
She met his eyes.
"He's coming for you," she said. "Aurelion. He's going to find you. And when he does—"
Malagar laughed.
"When he does," he repeated. "I'll be waiting."
He raised his axe.
Ami closed her eyes.
And the wall behind her exploded.