But… the connection he had established was abruptly severed, as though an unseen force had cut the thread binding him to whatever fragile certainty remained. No one could explain why it happened—no fluctuation, no warning, just a sudden, absolute silence.
"FUCK!!! Why now?!!!" Chris roared, his voice cracking under the weight of mounting frustration. He stood at the center of chaos, the one tasked with overseeing everything, yet utterly powerless as the situation spiraled into catastrophe before his very eyes. The responsibility pressed down on him like an invisible mountain, suffocating and relentless.
*****
From a distance, Zephyr bore witness to everything as it unfolded—each second stretching unbearably long, each moment etching itself into his mind with merciless clarity. His gaze locked onto the boy—the one who radiated an unmistakable aura, the kind that screamed protagonist, the kind that seemed destined to stand above all others.
And yet…the same boy was pierced without any resistance from his back, straight through to his chest.
It happened so quickly, so cleanly, that it defied comprehension. One moment he stood there, untouchable in presence, and the next—he was nothing more than a fragile body skewered by something far beyond human understanding.
Zephyr's breath hitched.
Even from afar, an oppressive force wrapped around him, tightening like a vice around his lungs. It wasn't fear... at least, not the kind he had come to know through battles and near-death encounters. This was something deeper, something more primal. It was as if his very existence rejected the presence of the creature before him.
Even the Bloodfang he had fought the beast that had pushed him to his absolute limits felt insignificant in comparison. That monster, once the embodiment of terror in his mind, now seemed like nothing more than a trivial obstacle when measured against the entity looming in the distance.
'Fuck… what the hell is that thing?!' Zephyr cursed inwardly, his thoughts trembling despite his effort to remain composed. For the first time in a long while, he felt it—true, unfiltered horror.
"That," Maw spoke, its voice unusually tense. " Is one of the infamous Fallen… the lowest tier within their Hierarchy."
It paused, as if even uttering the name carried weight.
"A Thrall."
Zephyr's eyes narrowed, though the unease within him only deepened. Even Maw, a being that had always exuded confidence and superiority, seemed wary...no, cautious of the creature before them. That alone spoke volumes.
Perhaps it hadn't anticipated this or neither of them had.
For a fleeting moment, a single thought surged through Zephyr's mind—clear, instinctive, undeniable.
Run....run as far as he could. Just hide and survived.
It was the most logical choice. The most human response.
But reality… was never so kind.
What if he ran today?What then...tomorrow? The day after? And the countless days that would follow?
Would he continue running, again and again, every time he faced something beyond his reach? Would his life become nothing more than an endless retreat, dictated by fear and inadequacy?
No...!!His jaw tightened because he had made a promise, to himself, his parents.and to his younger brother.A promise to become strong.
Not just strong enough to survive...but strong enough to make the world tremble beneath his existence. Strong enough to stand at the pinnacle and crush anything that dared oppose him.
This wasn't some ridiculous fantasy fueled by delusions of grandeur. This wasn't the kind of hollow "plot armor" that carried protagonists through impossible odds in cheap stories.
This was his reality and in this reality...running away meant breaking everything he stood for.
Yet there was something else, something darker.Buried deep within him, festering quietly, unseen even by Maw a twisted sensation.
It wasn't insignificant. It wasn't something he could dismiss or suppress with sheer will. It writhed within him, subtle yet persistent, like a flicker of something unnatural—something that had perhaps been there all along.
Maybe…
Maybe that was what Maw had sensed when they first met.The reason it chose him.
Zephyr wasn't a selfless hero.He never was and perhaps… he never would be.
His hesitation vanished.
The Thrall's tail writhed grotesquely, its movements erratic yet deliberate, as though guided by a malevolent intelligence. It coiled and twisted, preparing to devour the golden boy entirely—body, soul, and whatever lingering hope remained.
Zephyr knew, if that boy was swallowed…everything would become far worse.this was the only moment, the only chance.Before the Thrall's attention shifted toward him.
He inhaled deeply, steadying his trembling body through sheer force of will. His legs bent, muscles coiling like compressed steel, ready to release in a single explosive motion. His arms raised the katana high above his head, veins bulging beneath his skin, betraying the immense strain he was forcing his body to endure.
Every fiber of his being screamed at him to stop but he ignored it no... Zephyr forced to ignore it..
Something changed.
"Ignite."
The word slipped from his lips in a low murmur, barely audible, yet carrying an undeniable weight.
In an instant, his katana was engulfed.
Black flames erupted along its blade, writhing like living entities, exuding a heat that felt less like fire and more like a manifestation of something infernal. The air around him distorted, bending under the intensity of the power he had unleashed.
This was his creation.A skill born not from Maw or Bloodfang, nor bestowed upon him by some higher entity—but forged through his own curiosity and experimentation.
Hellfire.
Yet it was far from perfect.Controlling it demanded an astronomical level of focus. It required him to draw out the very fire within his being and channel it into his weapon—a process that threatened to consume him from the inside out.
But he didn't care.Consequences were meaningless in the face of what stood before him.The worst that could happen?His body would burn.His insides scorched by the very flames he wielded.
But the Thrall? He would die.
Without a doubt—he will die.
Because Zephyr had seen it from the beginning.
The Thrall had grasped something something golden, radiating a faint yet unmistakable glow.
The talisman and without hesitation, it crushed it.
Zephyr's eyes widened slightly.That wasn't just an action.That was a declaration, a death sentence for him and the dragon boy, everyone knew it.
There was no turning back now.