The cold wind atop Twilight's Eye Castle howled with the mournful sound of a world shattering. The sky, once shrouded in dense clouds, was now pierced by a red spiral that spun slowly, emanating a pulsing, living light— like the heartbeat of a dying god.
Tory reached the fortress's highest point — a circular stone platform with broken columns and ancient sigils etched into the floor. She gazed out at the horizon: mountains of black stone, rivers of blood, and green flames dancing in the air. Her face was caked in dirt and sweat, her breathing ragged.
But then, something began to fall from the spiral.
A silhouette — twisted, misshapen, screaming.
Cletus's body plummeted from the sky and hit the ground with a thundering crash, cracking the runic circle at the arena's center. The impact sent blood and smoke spraying. He writhed, flesh burning and regenerating simultaneously, bones warping into grotesque spirals.
Groaning, he dragged his body across the cold stone, leaving a viscous trail of blood behind him.
"Why?... How could I...?!" he murmured, his voice tremulous and furious. "I must become a god! No one can stop me... no one!"
His eyes, glazed and filled with despair, rose to see Tory standing before him, the wind whipping her blonde hair, her bandaged leg exposed — where a spear had once pierced it.
She raised her silver weapon, aiming straight at him.
"What a surprise," she said, her voice cold and level.
"I was just looking for you... but you came right to me."
Cletus gasped, his breath heavy, his eyes holding a calculated glint.
"So... Sophie..." he stammered, his tone melancholic and manipulative.
Tory cut him off with an icy glare.
"Don't call me that. Only my mother was allowed to say my name."
He dragged himself a little further, holding out a blood-soaked hand.
"Wait! Are you really going to shoot me? Your own father?"
His voice trembled, laced with desperation and venom.
"What did I do wrong, huh?! Even the great hero Ulysses sacrificed a woman to become a legend! I only wanted... to bring peace to this world! I sacrificed one human being for it... was that so horrible?"
Tory's eyes flashed with rage and disgust.
Cletus forced one last breath, trying to get closer.
"Help me, Sophie... please..."
She firmed her grip on the gun, her gaze hardening.
"Sophie died a long time ago."
The weapon gleamed silver.
"My name is Tory now."
And then, without hesitation, she murmured,
"Goodbye, father."
The sound of the bullets echoed like thunder.
Cletus was blasted backward, blood spraying in bursts. Every shot was loaded with hatred, loss, and liberation.
When the clip emptied, he lay motionless, his body collapsing in a pool of blood.
Tory stood frozen for an instant, her breath uneven, her hands trembling. The smell of gunpowder and iron saturated the air.
She staggered a few steps back and fell to her knees.
Silence.
Then, she began to laugh.
A nervous, hysterical laugh, until the tears began to fall.
The laughter turned into raw sobs, tearing through the weight she had carried for years.
Looking at the blood-soaked sky, she whispered between sobs,
"I thought... I thought I wouldn't cry..."
And she remained crying, weeping over years of accumulated pain.
(...)
Flashback - 9 Years Ago.
The distant sound of rain against the old mansion's windows echoed like a dirge. In the candlelit room, Alyra knelt before her two young daughters — Lucy and Nyra, with ten, twins bound by blood and fate.
Alyra, her long black hair framing a weary face, held two identical pendants, each bearing a pulsing crystal, one red and one blue.
She placed them in her daughters' hands and spoke, her voice gentle but firm:
"Listen closely, my little ones... These pendants are pieces of your very souls. As long as you have them, you will never be alone."
Nyra, with a shy smile, asked,
"Mama... what if we get separated?"
Alyra caressed her face and answered,
"Then they will glow. And the light will guide you back to each other."
She looked at them both, her eyes welling with tears.
"Protect yourselves. And above all... stay together."
The girls nodded and hugged their mother tightly. Alyra smiled, the warmth of the embrace a stark contrast to the cold storm outside.
3 Years Later - The Mansion Garden.
The twins trained in the field, Lucy and Nyra, with thirteen now, swinging wooden swords, their movements clumsy but full of will. The sound of the clashing wood echoed under the stars.
"You're going easy on me, sis!" said Lucy, grinning.
"I'm trying not to hurt you again!" Nyra retorted, laughing.
In the midst of their training, Alyra appeared on the veranda, a serene smile on her face.
"You two... always fighting, aren't you?"
The girls stopped and ran to her, hugging her legs.
"We're training to protect you, Mama!" Lucy said, full of pride.
Alyra looked up at the sky, her expression a mix of sorrow and hope.
"Then I hope you never have to fight for real."
The Day of the Fire.
The mansion was in chaos. The sound of screams and flames filled the air.
Alyra ran to the cellar, carrying Lucy over her shoulders, her face covered in soot.
"Mom! Where's Nyra?!" Lucy cried, sobbing.
"I'll get her. You need to stay here, my love."
She held her daughter's face.
"Close your eyes and don't leave until the fire is out."
Lucy grabbed her mother's arm, desperate.
"Don't leave me here!"
Alyra kissed her forehead.
"I love you, Lucy. Tell your sister I love her too... If I don't come back, be strong. Start a new life, change your name, leave all this behind."
She then spoke her last words:
"I love you, my little Strawberry."
The door shut.
The last sound was the roar of the fire and her mother's footsteps heading up the stairs, screaming Nyra's name.
Outside, a young Nyra hurried up the hill, Kaburami — an ancient sword — in her hands.
She saw the mansion ablaze, the fire reflecting in the sky.
"Mom?! Lucy?!" she shouted, but no answer came.
The flames roared high, devouring everything.
Then, a few vampires emerged from the darkness surrounding Nyra.
"Vampires!?" she shouted.
One of them drove a stake through her back and into her abdomen, making her spit blood. But then, with a scream of fury, her eyes glowed, her fangs emerged, and the Kaburami flew into her hands as if responding to her call.
She slaughtered all the vampires there, but the mansion was already completely consumed by fire.
Nyra then realized that her family had died there — and that she hadn't been strong enough to save them.
So she ran away, heartbroken by what had happened. In the following days, consumed by guilt and hatred toward monsters, she began her relentless pursuit of power.
From that moment on, the sisters each believed the other had died that night — until they met again years later.
Present - The Underworld.
On the other plane, the rift to the underworld gaped open like a starving throat.
A river of blood flowed beneath a misty, crimson sky. From the vortex above, the sword of Ulysses — Lycanos — plummeted, embedding itself in the ground with a metallic ring. The waters boiled around it.
Immediately after, Lucy and Nyra fell from the vortex, landing hard on the riverbank.
The two rose quickly, still spattered with the red liquid.
The sword emanated an ancestral energy, as if Ulysses himself were breathing through it.
Nyra ran first — and in an agile move, seized the sword's hilt.
Her eyes flashed deep blue.
Lucy approached slowly, her pendant in hand, still emanating energy.
Nyra looked her up and down and said, her voice cold,
"Give me that."
Lucy crossed her arms, a defiant smile playing on her lips.
"No way. You've already got yours."
Nyra narrowed her eyes, the air around her growing heavy.
"I want yours, too."
The two began to circle one another, steps slow, gazes sharp. The red waters reflected their faces — two halves of the same mirror.
Lucy broke the silence:
"What are you going to do with all that power, huh? No matter how hard you try, you'll never be like Dad. It's a waste of time."
Nyra lunged with ferocity. Their swords clashed, sparks tearing through the air.
The impact made the ground tremble. Lucy blocked the blow with difficulty, but countered with a spin, slashing Nyra's arm.
"We are the daughters of Ulysses!" Lucy yelled, shoving her back.
"His blood runs in our veins... but what really matters is your soul!"
With a side strike, Lucy hurled Nyra against a stone wall, which shattered on impact.
Lucy pointed her sword at her.
"And my soul is telling me to stop you!"
Nyra rose slowly, an ironic laugh escaping her lips.
"Unfortunately, our souls are strange, little sister."She raised the sword Lycanos, which pulsed with lupine energy.
" I need more power!
"And this sword is just the beginning."
Lucy stared back, her eyes burning red.
"Just like our father and our uncle, it seems we're destined to fight."
Nyra gave a half-smile, her gaze dark.
"Makes sense..."
The wind howled, kicking up blood and ash in spirals.
Two daughters of the same legacy, two souls divided by the heritage of a fallen hero —poised to decide the fate of all that remained.