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Dante's roar split the air like thunder from the bowels of the earth. The sound reverberated across the entire area, dispersing the flames, the smoke, and even the dust from the ruins. A shockwave of wind swept everything clean, revealing a brutal, visceral tableau of blood, exposed organs, and tissue, all weeping blood that steamed in the superheated air.
The pressure of the blast was the final push. Tekio, who had mustered the last dregs of his strength to remain upright, had nothing left to give. And there, amidst the wreckage and the gore, he fell to his knees.
The wound in his kidney was profound—blood pulsed from it in hot, constant, relentless streams. The boy struggled to breathe, his face smeared with soot and sweat. His body trembled violently, yet his eyes remained steadfast, fixed on the chaos unfolding before him.
Stella was at his side in an instant, her expression one of indescribable anguish, as if she were drowning in the terrible sight of his suffering. She gently cradled him in her lap as if laying him on a bed of thin, precious glass. Concentrating, she pressed her hands against the grievous injury. A golden light began to radiate from her palms, trembling in time with her own desperation.
—Stay with me, Tekio, please… don't you dare fade out on me now.
Her energy sought to seal the tear, but it failed. The wound was too deep. A pierced organ, an exhausted body. Even with all her power, Stella knew—there would be no easy miracle here. This was the limit she had never wanted to reach.
Her face sank further into despair, her eyes welling with tears she could no longer hold back, because deep down, she knew. This bloody scene might be the last vision she would ever have of her friend. Him bleeding out to death in her arms.
Tekio coughed, a spray of blood accompanying the sound, yet he managed a faint smile.
—You always make that face…— he murmured, his voice hoarse. —As if the whole world is about to collapse.
—Because sometimes it feels like it is!— she retorted, her voice trembling. —You're dying and you say that as if it's normal!
In the background, the sound of war did not cease. Flames roared. Amara and Dante exchanged blows—flesh tearing, bones shattering, the echoes of punches and shouts mingling with the noise of Dan's explosions. But for Stella, the loudest sound was Tekio's faltering breath.
He seemed to drift between consciousness and oblivion. But he knew he could not yield here. He had to strive for something more.
He looked at her through half-closed eyes, his expression calm.
—Stella… go help them.
—What?— she whispered, confused. —Are you insane? I'm not leaving you here!
—You can't heal this right now.— he replied, his tone firm and without hesitation. —And Dante is still there, fighting. If he regenerates completely… it's over for everyone.
—And it will be over for you, too!— Stella cried, her eyes flooding. —You can't even stand! You don't understand! An organ was pierced! You need me to stay and stem the bleeding or you'll… You'll…— Stella didn't have the strength to finish the sentence.
Tekio looked at her with what little strength he had left, and it broke her inside.
—You need to rest a little, Tekio. You don't have the strength to stand, so please, don't be stubborn!— She said then, with the most forced, compassionate smile she had ever mustered in her life.
He drew a deep, ragged breath, forcing his body not to collapse.
—I don't need to stand to fight. I just need you to trust me.
She looked at him, trembling. There was something in Tekio's voice—something she knew well. It was the same tone he used when he was about to do something that would risk his very life.
—Don't do this to me, Tekio.— she said, her voice a thin thread. —You've done the impossible so many times. But now… now there's no way.
Tekio lifted his gaze, fixing his eyes on hers. Even in his weakness, a light still burned there.
—There is. I always find a way.
—You find a way to almost die, that's what you do!— she shot back, shoving his shoulder in a mix of anger and despair. —You're too stubborn, damn it!
He let out a low, guttural laugh, spitting a little more blood, yet a tranquil gleam remained in his eyes.
—And you shout too much.
She wanted to retort, but her voice failed her. Her face contorted between rage and fear—the fear of losing him. She bowed her head, and Tekio laid his bloodied hand over hers.
—You're my family, Stella.— he said, with raw sincerity. —You know how much I trust you. So… please, have faith in me now.
The words hit her like a physical blow. Stella bit her lip, her eyes brimming.
—You always say that… you always make me choose between trusting you and losing you.
—And you always choose to trust.— he replied, with a weary smile.
In the background, a white glare tore across the sky—Dan had detonated part of the field in a wave of fire. Amara staggered back, gasping, her body covered in ashes, while Dante rose once more from the flames, a living, grotesque shadow with burning tentacles and a fractured skull. His roar made the very ground tremble. He seemed more conscious with every passing second. Stronger.
Without Tekio there to sever his connection to the abyss, his regeneration came more easily.
Stella looked back at the fight, and then again at Tekio. She didn't want to go. She couldn't. But he still held her hand, squeezing with the little strength he had left.
She tried one last time, feeling Tekio's blood flow over her hands as she tried to close the wound. Her eyes blazed as she tried as she had never tried before in her life.
But nothing. Nothing happened.
All she could feel was the pulsing flesh and the river of blood gushing out. Every time she looked at him, every time she felt his weakening grip, she thought it could be the last. And it destroyed her. The apocalyptic scene behind her, the sound of explosions, Dan's shouts, Amara's blows, and the sight of her friend fading right before her eyes—all of it, combined with everything they had lived through until now, exploded in Stella's mind in a single second.
She gripped Tekio's shoulder tightly, and then she screamed. A primal scream, laden with everything she had ever lived, everything that was detonating inside her at that very moment. She was pouring it all out in that instant.
Dan and Amara heard it; even Dante heard it. But there was no time to look away from the combat. They had to hold on, they had to fight to the end.
When the scream subsided, Stella looked at Tekio again. She panted, breathing intensely, trying to recover her breath.
Tekio's gaze was firm. He couldn't bear to see his friend like this, but he knew he had to maintain a certain posture for her. So he gathered all his strength to continue.
—Go, Stella.— he whispered. —I can hold on. Just… believe in me.
She took a deep breath, trying to contain her sobs.
—You make me hate trusting you, Tekio.
—That's why it works.— he replied, with a half-smile.
She hugged him quickly—a firm, desperate embrace that said what words could not.
—If you die here… I swear I'll punch you when I find you on the other side.
Tekio laughed, weakly.
—Fair enough.
She released him and stood, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. Her eyes began to shine with gold once more, reflecting the fire of the battlefield. Stella took one last look at him, and then ran toward the flames, where Amara and Dan faced the inferno.
Tekio remained there, breathing with difficulty. Blood flowed, his body failed, but his spirit burned brighter than ever. He watched Stella disappear among the explosions and murmured, almost voiceless:
—You were always the light, Stella… now go light their way as well.
After casting one last look at Tekio, Stella hurled herself into the flames and destruction that filled the battlefield. Each step was accompanied by the crackle of burning debris, sparks rising like tiny dancing flames around her. Her eyes shone with an almost painful intensity, and her mind burned with memories and feelings crushing her from within.
Flashes of the life she had shared with Tekio ignited like sparks in her consciousness: all the missions they had faced side-by-side, the moments he defied the possible, the times he saved her or other allies, when Tekio protected Dan and wrestled his soul back from Dante, when he united Yara and Amara one last time, and so much more that Tekio had done in his life's journey that Stella had witnessed. Even the simple, everyday moments, when he was just a lost boy trying to find himself. Each memory was warm, alive, and Stella realized, once again, how much she loved this family she had chosen: Tekio and Dan were pillars of her life, as essential as any bond of blood.
Unknowingly, Tekio had always been a pillar of support. Even fragile, even without powers comparable to a full Sif, he carried a silent strength that inspired all around him. Stella, born into the gilded Zenon family, powerful and privileged, remembered how, in her own life, she had often felt powerless, incapable of fighting. And, seeing him fight—straining far more than any ordinary Sif just to accomplish anything—Stella felt a pang of pity, but soon understood: the pity wasn't for him, it was for herself. Pity for herself, for being weak despite all she had—support, resources, power—and yet, feeling insufficient.
She wondered, silently, why she hadn't trained more, why she hadn't sought to perfect her abilities every single day. And in that instant, a resolution burned within her: she would grow. She would grow for herself, to protect those she loved, to never again be rendered impotent in the face of destruction.
And she had. The frightened girl, watching another boy striving so much harder, had decided to do the same.
Time passed. Stella and Dan trained with Mei, Tekio with Aisha. They grew, honed their skills, faced missions, explored the world, laughed together at the cinema, savored simple meals in restaurants. Each memory warmed Stella's heart, bringing a thread of hope amid the chaos.
But, inevitably, her gaze turned inward, and Tenklyn surfaced in her mind. One, lost in battle, dead; the other, bleeding out in Dante's cruel hands. Two pillars of her life, two names that had defined her heart. One had been torn from her, the other was being tested by the same man: the damned king, Dante.
Stella ran, charging through the flames, smoke, and destruction that roared around her. Amara weaved between tentacles, striking with controlled fury, while Dan hurled himself through explosions of white flame, creating space for them to advance. And Dante… Dante roared, louder and louder, his voice thundering across the field, shaking the very ground and the air thick with heat and soot.
Stella advanced without hesitation, her eyes blazing through tears and blood. Her hair whipped in the wind and fire, each strand moving as if it were an extension of her own rage and determination. Every step she took was laden with promise, every breath a decision: Vengeance. Vengeance for Tenklyn, vengeance for the suffering, vengeance for all who were still in peril.
Stella's gaze burned hotter than the sun.
Tekio closed his eyes for a moment, letting the heavy weariness wash over him like a silent storm. Each breath was a struggle, each heartbeat a cruel reminder that his body had reached its end. The urge to rest, to yield, pulsed in every fiber, but he forced himself to remain conscious, to resist the temptation to let go.
An inner voice whispered, calm and relentless: Accept it. You have done all you can. There is no more way forward.
Yara did not answer. There was no cure. There was no one left to hold him up. No ally to stop the inevitable.
Tekio breathed deeply, feeling the blood flow, warm and heavy, spreading pain throughout his body. With a strength that no longer felt like his own, he had made Stella go. It was what needed to be done. For her, for tomorrow, so she wouldn't have to hold him in her arms, consumed by death. Perhaps it was a selfish act. Perhaps it was the only way to protect those he loved. But Tekio knew: he was going to die here.
And yet, amidst the pain coursing through his veins and the blood dripping from his lips, Tekio felt a strange form of peace. For the first time in a long while, there was a sense of completeness in that moment. He looked at Stella, Dan, Amara… his friends, his chosen family. He felt a silent pride and love for them, even as his life slowly emptied away.
Even wounded, even on the brink of collapse, his consciousness refused to abandon him. He watched the battle from a distance, as if he were there, yet free from the limitations of his body. The world around him was a chaos of explosions, screams, and the impact of bodies. Every injury he had suffered along his path—when he fought Dante and was burned, cut, and wounded; when he faced Kaze and was nearly mutilated; when he suffered at Karmore's hands, his eardrums burst, his body a canvas of bruises with a broken arm to boot; when he trained under Aisha's relentless discipline—had forged his endurance. Nothing had come easy, and he had grown accustomed to pain.
A part of him wanted to get up, or rather, knew it could continue.
His energy, though faint, remained steady. Tekio was losing consciousness, but at the same time, on some level, he was more awake than ever. He felt every blow, every shock, every spark of the battle, as if they were part of his own flesh and spirit. Pain and void, life and death, converged at a single point: his eyes opened once more, lit with a determination that could not be extinguished.
Even at his limit, even with everything against him, Tekio was there. Present. Watching. Prepared to, one last time, play his part.
And as the sky crumbled in flames, Tekio closed his eyes for an instant, preparing for what was to come—the final act of someone who never knew how to quit.
To be continued…
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