The previous impact still vibrated in the air.
The rubble smoldered on the horizon, and a red crack ran across the ground like a vein of pure fury.
Mei Nuhay stood firm, her eyes fixed on the crater she had left with a single punch.
Her hands still trembled, not from exhaustion—but from restraint.
She felt it.
That thing down there had not vanished.
It had not died.
The Veil shuddered. The shadows began to writhe, like serpents being summoned.
Then, he emerged.
His posture intact, Akira's hair slightly disheveled, a cut at the corner of his lip already closing.
Dante.
— Truly… — he wiped the blood with the back of his hand, staring at her with a thin smile. — You believe you can decide everything with your fists.
— You believe you are invincible. — Mei replied, adjusting the white sash at her waist. — Let's see who breaks first.
Dante took a deep breath, his chest expanding like that of a monarch ready to address the world's throne.
— This body… — he said, looking at his own hands. — Is a marvelous tool. Akira always wasted its true potential.
Mei gritted her teeth.
Just hearing that name in Dante's mouth made something inside her twitch.
Dante stretched an arm to the side. The shadows around him elongated, taking shape.
Blades, spears, serpents.
Then, he raised his other hand—and the Aether began to flow.
Ethereal crystals formed in the air around him, floating like fragments of frozen light.
— Fight me, Mei Nuhay.
— Prove to me you're still the empress who fears losing the throne… because she doesn't want to get her hands dirty.
The provocation was calculated.
And it worked.
Mei advanced.
Like a scarlet flash, she crossed the distance in an instant, punching the ground beside Dante to force him off balance.
He dodged, spinning his body with fluidity and making the shadows spin with him like a black whirlwind.
Blades cut the air.
Mei dodged most with sharp movements, opening an arm and firing a spiral of flaming energy.
The shadows evaporated on impact—but reappeared right behind.
Dante didn't need seals now.
Akira's body obeyed his will as if it were his own.
— Your flame is marvelous… — he said, sliding between her attacks. — As hot as your weakness.
— And your shadow is beautiful. Pity it reeks of wounded ego.
He tried to impale her with a shadow spear emerging from the ground. Mei jumped, kicking the air and propelling herself backward, creating distance.
And there, standing amidst the destruction, she hesitated.
The aura of that body… The presence.
It was Akira. Her old friend. The one who fought beside her. Who smiled at her.
Who promised never to leave her alone.
She squeezed her eyes shut, and for an instant, the flame faltered.
Dante noticed.
— Still think you can save him? — he asked, with imperial coldness. — Think there's something in there waiting to be freed?
— I don't know. — she replied, quieter. — But if I kill you now, I'll never find out.
— Then don't hesitate.
Dante exploded with speed, crossing the space between them with a shadowy leap. A black tide enveloped his right arm, which now formed a living blade made of shadows and condensed Aether.
Mei blocked the blow with her forearms covered in flaming energy, but the impact was like colliding with an avalanche.
They were thrown together, crashing against one of the destroyed pillars of the battlefield.
Mei fell to her knees, blood streaming from her forehead.
But her gaze… still burned.
— I'm not going to kill you yet. — she said, rising slowly. — But not out of pity.
— Out of choice.
— Out of pride.
— Because I still believe there's a way to do this right.
Dante looked at her with scorn.
— And if there isn't?
She raised her hand. The ground cracked in circles. Fiery fissures appeared like mouths of the earth.
— Then I'll burn you until not a trace of your existence remains.
The fight resumed.
Dante fired ethereal spines from all directions. Mei spun in the air, creating a vortex of fire around her body.
They collided in the center of the field—shadow and flame, king and empress, will and arrogance.
With every blow, chunks of the ground flew.
With every word, truths were spat like blades.
— You don't understand, Mei — Dante said, his voice vibrating in a thousand tones. — It's not about victory. It's about dominion. About inevitability.
— And that's why you always lose. — she replied with a crooked smile. — Because you never understood the value of choice.
The clash reached its peak.
Mei no longer hesitated to fight—but she still hesitated to finish.
That was the tension.
If she killed now… Akira would die with Dante.
If she didn't… the world could crumble.
And deep down, something in her knew.
The time would come.
The choice would come.
But not now.
Now… she fought.
And she did it better than anyone.
The dust from the blows still danced on the horizon.
In the distance, the fight between Mei and Dante devastated the field—explosions of shadow and flames tinged the sky with the colors of war.
But there, far from the center of the confrontation, he walked.
Tekio.
Each step was a silent scream.
Each heartbeat, a warning that his body was still not ready.
But his spirit… that no longer hesitated.
— If she gets trapped again… — he whispered. — She dies.
His throat dry. Warm blood flowing down his ribs.
And yet, he walked.
— I won't let that happen.
Even if I have to die.
Even if I have to… tear my soul again.
The battle between Mei and Dante had shifted.
They now crossed the skies and ruins like two gods clashing with time itself.
And they were moving further and further away from Tekio.
But he did not let himself be left behind.
He planted his foot on the ground, adjusted his body, and quickened his pace.
Almost a run.
Almost.
But it was enough.
That was when Yara spoke, feeling the tension within him.
— Tekio… you will destroy yourself.
— Wait. Calm down. It's not time yet.
But he answered with his eyes fixed ahead.
— I saw, Yara.
— What?
— I always saw.
When Dante possessed Dan… I saw the traces of his soul.
The separate lines.
The cracks.
Before I only felt it, now I see...
Yara fell silent.
Tekio continued.
— And now… with Akira.
Even with Dante in control… I see.
His eyes trembled slightly. Not from fear, but from growing comprehension.
— Akira's soul is still there.
Buried.
Enslaved.
But alive.
Yara tried to understand, but the answer didn't come.
She was a warrior from another era, linked to thunder, to combat.
But this…
This spiritual vision, this reading of essence…
— This… is not mine. — she murmured, frightened.
Tekio nodded, firmly.
— It's not you.
Yara hesitated.
— Then… it's the other thing.
Tekio stopped for a moment, his chest heaving, but his eyes steady.
— Perhaps.
— Perhaps it's what I always was.
— Or perhaps… I'm just seeing what no one else wanted to see.
Yara then felt it.
Something in Tekio was detaching from common humanity.
It wasn't just the pain.
Nor just the persistence.
It was what was growing inside him.
Something that looked at the world from within.
From in between.
"He is not just evolving."
"He is… becoming."
The gift Tekio was beginning to awaken wasn't for direct combat, but for spiritual intervention.
For perceiving souls.
Perhaps even separating them.
And that was an ability that, in the right field… could change everything.
— I can see him, Yara — he said, his voice firmer now.
— Akira.
— He still exists.
Those words carried hope.
But also responsibility.
Because, if he could see him… then he couldn't kill him.
And if he couldn't kill him…
He would have to find another way to defeat Dante.
Yara closed her eyes within his consciousness.
For a second, she wanted to smile.
But the weight came soon after.
"This gift…
If it falls into the wrong hands.
Or if the 'presence' inside him takes him completely…"
Yara didn't know if Tekio was becoming a savior
or a host for something that should not exist.
The wind now cut Tekio's face.
His muscles, once torn, were rebuilding themselves.
Yara's energy, which once only healed, was now synchronized.
There was no more resistance between them.
Only shared intention.
And the field ahead was already illuminated in red and black—the traces of the duel between Mei and Dante.
But now, Tekio saw more than lights.
He saw the lines.
Traces.
Tears in space that formed souls.
And among them…
Akira's soul.
Weak.
But there.
Like a whisper waiting to be heard.
Tekio clenched his fist.
Not from rage.
But from decision.
— I will save you, Akira.
Even if I have to lose myself in the process.
To be continued…