Fracture Belt District
New Boston, North Atlantic Federation arc zone
Western Hemisphere,
United Earth Federation
2435 A.D.
Xerna Solenne.
Her black hair clung to her face in the rain, crimson markings glowing faintly along her cheeks. Her crimson eyes locked onto his with cold, unflinching precision.
Elias froze where he stood. The memory of the girl who once smiled in his arms flashed before him—warmth, laughter, light—and vanished beneath the weight of the woman standing before him now.
"Xer…" he said quietly, disbelief and anger blending in his tone. "How long have you been working with them?"
She didn't answer right away. Rain fell between them, tapping against her armor in a steady rhythm. When she finally spoke, her voice was calm, but the steel within it could have cut through the air.
"Are you referring to my group?" Xerna asked.
"Your group…" Elias growled. He dismissed the plasma blade in his hand, its glow fading into mist. Instead, he went for the optimal option.
From above, a distant whir sliced through the rainfall—the sound of his drone descending through the clouds. It ejected his Saber of Conviction, the weapon piercing down from the storm like a falling star. Elias caught it in one smooth motion, the weight familiar, grounding him against the cold dread before him.
The saber's light flared along its edge, reflecting off the puddles at his feet and casting streaks of gold and crimson between them. The weapon's presence steadied him. Against the threat standing before him—against her—Elias felt his resolve lock into place.
Elias's grip on his Saber tightened. "You hijacked my gate."
"I redirected it," Xerna said simply. "To save time."
"For what?"
"So we could talk," she said.
"Talk…" Elias growled, his voice low, strained with contained anger. "Talk."
"Isn't that what you want?" Xerna said evenly. "For the past six years—since I was imprisoned—hasn't there been a part of you that wondered what happened to me?"
"I did…" Elias admitted, his growl softening. But the words faltered as the weight of her voice pressed against him. The resolve that had just steadied him began to waver. "What do you want to talk about?"
"I wanted to thank you," Xerna said.
He blinked. "Thank me?"
"Yes," she continued, her tone cold but strangely calm. "Because of you, my eyes were opened to the truth. The truth of this world. Because of you, I gained the resolve to do what I needed to do."
"Resolve?" Elias spat. "What does that have to do with killing Malcolm Hynes?"
"You know why," Xerna said quietly. "Say it."
Elias's jaw clenched. "…Project Heliospire."
"Yes."
He hesitated, his anger giving way to a flicker of pain. "Were you… Did he hurt you?"
Xerna's gaze didn't waver. "I didn't come here to talk about our trauma, Elias," she said, her voice quiet but sharp enough to pierce the storm between them.
"Then why?" Elias demanded.
She took a step closer, rain sliding down the crimson lines etched along her armor. "Because I wanted you to understand my conviction."
"Conviction?" Elias's grip tightened around his saber.
"Yes," Xerna said. "You and your people talk about peace, treaties, alliances—but they're all illusions. Bandages wrapped around wounds that never heal. I've seen what coexistence really means, Elias. It means one side chained beneath the other."
Her eyes glowed faintly red through the mist. "So I'll create a new balance. Through destruction. Only by tearing down the world as it is can we rebuild it on equal ground. Luminia, human—both must lose everything before they can stand together."
Elias shook his head slowly. "You call that coexistence?"
"I call it necessity," Xerna said. "You can't build equality on the ruins of hypocrisy. You destroy the foundation first—then you rebuild."
Rain hissed against the energy of her armor, the faint hum of her Facet beginning to rise.
"Xer…" Elias said, his voice heavy now, almost pleading. "You can't build coexistence through destruction. This isn't you."
"It's who I became," she replied. "You opened my eyes to that."
For a long moment, neither moved. Only the storm spoke, roaring softly between them—the echo of a bond shattered by two different kinds of conviction.
Then Xerna raised her arms and spread them outward.
The air around her shivered—soundless, formless—and then broke.
Invisible waves sliced forward, carving through the rain like razors of compressed space. The first hit the ground, splitting the asphalt cleanly; the second sheared through a row of abandoned cars, sending fragments tumbling through the mist.
Elias moved.
His Saber of Conviction flashed up in a golden arc, deflecting the unseen edge with a metallic shriek that rippled through the storm. Another came—he caught it too, the blade humming as sparks of plasma scattered into the rain.
Xerna flicked her wrist in a sharp pointing gesture. Another invisible slash screamed toward him, slicing through the downpour.
Elias had already adapted. A faint ember-colored glow expanded around him—the manifestation of his Ember Diffusion Field. Heat rippled across the ground, distorting the air, and within that thermal shimmer, his awareness stretched outward. Every shift in pressure, every disruption of luminis current in the rain, every vibration in the air—he could feel them.
When the next invisible cut came, his body was already in motion. His Saber pivoted through the arc with inhuman precision, intercepting the attack with a hiss of energy. The invisible slice dissipated against the Gem weapon's radiant edge.
Xerna narrowed her eyes, recognizing the technique. It was the same one he'd used against Nine. He was reading her attack patterns—sensing the trajectories of her cutting Facet through air distortion and energy resonance.
But she didn't stop.
Instead of retreating, she advanced. Her boots struck the soaked pavement, sending ripples through the puddles. It was a direct approach—one no Luminia would dare take. Her kind preferred long-range combat, weaving light and flux from a distance. Xernia discarded that advantage entirely.
She lunged, hands cutting through the air in swift, elegant motions. Each swipe released a razor-thin distortion, a minor slice that fractured the rain as it flew.
Elias met them head-on. His Saber flared to life, its edge a radiant line of gold and crimson. He moved with practiced precision, each swing forming a perfect counterstroke.
Golden arcs cut through the storm. Crimson light collided with invisible edges. Each clash filled the street with shockwaves, scattering debris and water in bursts of heated mist. The rhythm of their combat—her silent slices and his burning parries—became the only sound in the ruined street, a deadly dialogue of conviction and vengeance written in light and motion.
They moved through the empty streets like dueling storms.
Each collision of power shattered the world around them—the asphalt splitting, glass shattering, neon signs bursting into static as waves of energy pulsed through the air. Every blow they exchanged broke the ground into pieces of drifting debris, their movements too fast for the eye to follow.
The night trembled beneath their Crown-tier prowess.
Xerna pressed forward, her hands sweeping through the air in sharp, commanding gestures. Every motion released invisible slices that carved the street into ribbons. The sheer volume of her Lumenis reserves flooded the battlefield, saturating the air in a dark, heavy radiance that bent light itself. Her Facet carried destructive intent in every stroke—raw, unrestrained power that tore through concrete and steel alike.
Elias countered each assault with disciplined precision. His Saber of Conviction blurred in his grip, weaving arcs of gold and crimson that left molten trails in the rain. Where Xerna's attacks were wide and furious, his were compact and deliberate—surgical in their efficiency. Every movement revealed hard-earned experience, each strike honed through years of battles that had tempered both his strength and his restraint.
The clash of their Facets sent shockwaves echoing through the ruined district. Yet despite their opposing approaches—her chaotic ferocity against his refined precision—neither could overwhelm the other. What balanced them was not strength. It was intellect. Their battle IQ was evenly matched—each reading the other's rhythm, predicting feints, adapting mid-motion.
Elias pivoted, swinging in a horizontal arc, the Saber's plasma edge cutting through three invisible slashes in rapid succession. He followed with a vertical counterstrike, splitting a fourth wave cleanly in two before it reached him. Sparks and droplets scattered through the air like burning rain.
This Facet… he thought, eyes narrowing as he deflected another cut. It's tied to a special Gem—probably a darkness-based primal type. It's not photonic at all, but a non-luminous compression wave that severs molecular bonds. Precise. Contained. Triggered by sight and gesture.
Across from him, Xerna darted back, her red eyes glinting as she studied his movements. Her breathing was steady, her tone calculating as thought bled into instinct.
He's not using his Facet yet, she realized. He's relying purely on his swordsmanship.
Her hand flexed. Another ripple of luminis energy shimmered around her arm, resonating with her gem core.
It's just as I thought, she concluded, eyes hardening behind her visor. Killing him is impossible without a full effort.
They circled one another, the street cracking beneath their steps, the rain turning to mist from the heat of their clashing power. The next exchange would decide everything.
Elias steadied his breath. The rain fell heavier now, each droplet hissing into steam the moment it touched the faint heat aura that bled from his skin. His heartbeat slowed—not from calm, but from focus.
He remembered the words of his teacher, spoken long ago in a training courtyard filled with morning mist.
"The blade's edge is thought made visible. When you see clearly, resistance ceases."
He exhaled, and the world exhaled with him. Elias slid into his stance—shoulders relaxed, knees grounded, every breath threading perfectly into motion. The rhythm of his pulse merged with the Lumenis lattice of the world itself, the invisible current that connected all living energy.
Heat gathered around him, the Ember Diffusion Field stabilizing into a shimmering equilibrium. His aura no longer burned; it pulsed, rhythmic, deliberate—each breath syncing with the unseen pulse of the world. His perception expanded past his physical senses until every movement in the air, every vibration in the rain, became part of his awareness.
The Saber of Conviction began to hum—a low, resonant tone that wasn't so much a sound as a feeling, the energy between him and his weapon perfectly harmonized.
Across the fractured street, Xerna paused. Her crimson eyes narrowed beneath the faint glow of her visor. She could feel it too—the shift in the air. The pressure. The absolute stillness before the strike. It wasn't power born of a Facet or a weave. It was something simpler, older—human.
"Humanity is truly something else," she murmured. "To think they could refine something as obsolete as swordsmanship—merge it with Lumenis—and make it rival the Weave itself."
Elias didn't respond. His gaze stayed fixed on her, eyes half-lidded in concentration. He raised his Saber. Drew a single vertical line through the air. The motion was almost gentle, a breath guided by will—and yet the light that followed shimmered like a crack in reality. Lumenis flowed from his core into the blade, collecting along the edge in a thin, molten line.
Then came the second movement—a short diagonal cut, perfectly timed with his exhale. The air folded. Rain parted around the strike, driven aside by sheer precision.
Xernia's instincts screamed before her mind could process it. The calm pressure in that slash—the clarity, the silence within its force—felt like the breath of the world itself trying to divide reality in two. She raised her hands and summoned a defensive weave, light fractals forming around her arm in a circular barrier. She rarely relied on weaving; it was too slow, too deliberate. But this—this demanded it. The impact struck her shield like a sonic pulse, the vibrations running through her bones. The weave shimmered, nearly unraveling. And Elias was already moving.
His next form flowed seamlessly from the last—a cascading series of slashes, each following the momentum of the one before it. Golden and crimson arcs erupted through the rain, painting the night with streaks of molten light. The flow never broke; each contact point birthed another strike, the rhythm continuous, alive.
Xerna's reactions became instinctive. Her compound shield collapsed back into luminous fragments as she switched tactics mid-motion, weaving her Facet through her movements. Invisible blades intersected his arcs, clashing against his Saber's radiant edge. She used her slicing Facet not to cut—but to block, matching precision for precision.
The street around them disintegrated under the pressure. Cracks spiderwebbed across the asphalt. The shockwaves tore banners from the buildings and sent sparks dancing across the flooded ground.
Two forces—human discipline and Luminian wrath—collided in perfect opposition.
Each step, each breath, each movement of their blades spoke of conviction. And neither was willing to yield.
Elias was putting his body on the line.
Each exchange between them left streaks of red across the rain-soaked street. Xerna's invisible cuts slipped past his guard, precise and merciless. His Saber deflected what it could, but even a single lapse let her Facet draw blood.
Shallow slices marked his arms, shoulders, and ribs—small wounds, but too many. The constant movement tore them wider, painting trails of crimson across his soaked coat. His breathing grew ragged, every inhale sharp with pain.
Xerna wasn't unscathed either; faint gashes shimmered along her armor where his blade had kissed through. But unlike Elias, her body mended almost instantly. As a Luminia, her natural regeneration was second nature—her Lumenis tissue repairing itself before she even noticed. The blood that touched her skin evaporated, replaced by smooth, unbroken flesh.
Elias, however, was human. His wounds didn't vanish. They multiplied.
After one massive clash—his Saber colliding against her Facet with an impact that sent shockwaves through the street—the two of them broke apart, skidding to a halt several meters away from each other. The ground between them was cracked and steaming, littered with fragments of melted stone.
Elias stood hunched, chest heaving. Blood ran down the side of his head, mixing with the rain. His muscles trembled with exhaustion, his body screaming from the countless shallow cuts that now covered him. None were fatal, but the sheer volume of blood loss was turning his vision hazy.
He forced a breath, tightening his grip on the Saber. Then, closing his eyes, he concentrated.
A green web of interlocked light began to spread across his body, glowing faintly against the storm. The intricate pattern pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat, threads of energy weaving together like a living lattice. His Lumenis reserves flared—and then began to burn away rapidly. Within seconds, the bleeding stopped. The cuts sealed over. The ache in his chest eased.
Xerna's gaze narrowed as she watched the green network fade from his skin. "That… isn't Luminis Weave," she said slowly. "Humanity shouldn't be capable of something like that."
Her voice carried both awe and disdain.
"Humans can only form Summoning Weave, Barrier Weave, and Reinforcement Weave. But I've heard rumors… about a weave they created on their own. One that grants instant regeneration." She tilted her head, her crimson eyes sharp beneath the rain. "A skill not even most Gemcrafters can wield. And yet…"
Her words trailed off. Elias's silence answered for him.
The truth was simple—and brutal. Elias wasn't a master of the Regeneration Weave. He'd learned its logic, the method behind it, but not its finesse. His use of it was crude, incomplete. He couldn't restore limbs like the true healers could. He could only patch surface wounds—and even that came at a steep cost.
Already, he felt the drain. His Lumenis reserves dropped sharply, the green glow flickering out as exhaustion crept in. The weave worked—but it devoured him with every use.
Still, he stood. Sword in hand. Blood drying beneath the rain. And for the first time, Xerna hesitated—not out of mercy, but in recognition. The human before her refused to fall.
Elias drew in a slow breath, the storm filling his lungs. He shifted his stance, lowering his center of gravity as the Saber of Conviction turned in his grip—its tip angled backward, blade humming with volatile light. Lumenis surged through the weapon's core, veins of gold and red pulsing along the blade like living fire.
Across from him, Xerna felt the shift instantly—the ignition of a Facet. Offensive, sharp, disciplined.
She raised her hand and summoned her own weapon. A slender wand materialized in her grasp, forged from black alloy. Its head curved into a silver crescent, and within that crescent hovered a red gem that pulsed like a beating heart. Energy coiled around her arm as she tuned her wavelength, preparing to amplify the destructive reach of her Null Rend Facet.
The two stood still for a moment, rain hissing against metal and concrete, thunder growling low above the ruined street.
Then they moved.
For a heartbeat, both vanished—speed collapsing into pure distortion. The world warped around them as the clash erupted mid-air, invisible at first, then violently real. Their Facets collided, and the impact tore through space like a rupture in reality.
A shockwave rippled outward. The air screamed. Buildings disintegrated in the periphery as the pressure wave expanded, leaving only fractured geometry and molten fragments in its wake.
Elias hit the ground first, boots skidding through water and debris. He exhaled hard, breath shaking, his clothes burned through at the shoulder, where blood poured freely down his arm. The cut was deep—muscle torn, nerves screaming. His Ion Saber Facet had been neutralized, overwhelmed by the devouring force of Xerna's Null Rend.
He turned in time to see her land across from him. Her feet scraped across the ground, sparks flashing beneath her boots before she twisted and came to a stop. Her upper armor was split open, the left side of her body drenched in her own blood. The red luminis markings across her chest flickered weakly, fading in and out like a dying pulse.
Her helmet clattered to the side, rolling across the broken pavement until it came to rest in the rain.
For the first time, their eyes met again without the barrier of armor—two warriors, two lovers, staring through the chaos they had created.
In her hand, Xerna held something small, faintly glowing in the stormlight. Elias's gaze dropped to it—and froze. His Lumenpad. She'd torn it from his arm in the instant they clashed.
Elias looked down, realizing the device was gone, wires sparking where it had been attached. When his eyes rose again, Xernia's expression was unreadable—somewhere between triumph and sorrow.
Behind her, a silver portal unfolded—its surface rippling like liquid glass, casting pale light across the shattered street. Xerna stepped back toward it, her movements slow but certain, rain streaking down her bloodstained armor.
Her crimson eyes lifted, locking with Elias's. His emerald gaze met hers across the fading storm, and for a breathless instant, time seemed to hold. He took a step forward—then another—his body moving without thought, as if drawn by something deeper than reason.
Xerna's lips parted. Her voice was faint, carried off by the rain, a whisper lost between thunderclaps. Whatever she said was swallowed by the sound of the storm. Then the portal swallowed her whole. She was gone—vanished from his life once again.
Elias stopped mid-stride, his blade trembling in his grasp. The glow along its edge flickered and died, leaving only the cold shimmer of rain reflected in steel. He stood there in silence, his breath uneven, blood seeping through his sleeve and dripping into the puddles at his feet.
Exhaustion crept over him like a shadow. His Lumenis reserves were empty, his strength bleeding away with every heartbeat. Yet he couldn't move—not yet. He just stared at the space where she had been, the fading echo of her presence lingering in the air.