The sky over the Western Front looked like a bruised canvas, its clouds heavy with smoke and falling embers. The fortress towers were on the edge of collapse, their battlements glowing with molten cracks from the last Gamma bombardment.

  A horn sounded—“Warning! Objects approach from the north!”

  “Prepare yourselves! Steady your aim!” a sergeant shouted, his eyes cutting through the chaos of the sky.

  Soldiers quickly raised their weapons, while artillery crews tightened their grips on the cannons.

  Then—

  A blinding burst of golden light tore through the clouds, followed by a violent streak of blue wind-magic, sharp with the scent of blood.

  "What is happening?!" one soldier shouted, his weapon slipping from his hands as shock took hold of him.

  Robin and Lysandra.

  Their wyvern—damaged and wrecked—spiraled out of control, its wings shredded by the force of Malakar’s Starshatter blast.

  “Pull! ROBIN, PULL—!” Lysandra screamed, her grip on the saddle a frantic attempt to maintain her sanity. Blood dripped from her fingers, the metallic taste of dread flooding her senses.

  Robin growled through clenched teeth.

  “I’m trying!”

  “You need to try harder! This battle isn’t over yet!” Lysandra yelled back, desperation mixing with fierce determination in her eyes.

  The wyvern crashed against the Western battlements, its impact inflicting a bone-crushing toll.

  The force shattered stone and sent soldiers flying into the chaos.

  “No! Get up!” Robin shouted, a primal scream escaping her lips as she fell to the ground, blood oozing from her temple.

  Lysandra crumpled beside her, her leg bent at an unnatural angle, barely holding onto life.

  “Lysandra— please! Stay with me!” Robin's hands shook as she held her friend, struggling against hopelessness.

  “I... I can’t,” Lysandra murmured, her voice weak and far away, eyes unfocused and dim. “Promise... you will fight.”

  But Lysandra's gaze was already fading, a flicker of light extinguished in the encroaching darkness.

  A soldier shouted, “Medic team! Get moving—”

  “They will not reach us in time!” Robin sobbed, her heart racing wildly within her chest as darkness began to close in around them.

  Then the light was extinguished.

  The chill seeped into their bones.

  Every soldier stood still, frozen in place.

  “Do you feel that?” one whispered, trembling, peering into the thickening gloom.

  Robin sensed it first—a tremor gnawing at her very bones.

  “This is not the end,” she declared, dread creeping into her voice.

  Wings.

  They beat like the drums of a funeral march, announcing a doom that ignited the marrow of their bones with unspeakable fear.

  A shadow blotted out the fading sun.

  Malakar Wyvernhelm descended upon the smoking ruins of the northern wall— one wing shattered and leaking molten bone, shoulder cracked from his earlier assault.

  And yet he still radiated the presence of a living nightmare.

  The Auditor glyph burned upon his chest like a malignant star.

  His voice echoed through the stones beneath their feet.

  “You flee. You struggle. You crash. And yet you still draw breath. Unacceptable.”

  “What do you want from us, monster?” one soldier cried, his voice shattering like the ground beneath them.

  “To see you writhe as the light fades from your eyes,” Malakar replied, a sinister grin spreading across his face, revealing sharp, glinting fangs.

  The soldiers from the west gripped their pikes tightly, their hands trembling.

  Robin staggered forward, shielding Lysandra’s unconscious body, her heart racing as adrenaline coursed through her.

  “You... followed us?” she breathed, her voice barely audible, laced with an overwhelming dread.

  Malakar lowered his massive head, his gaze striking and filled with cruel amusement.

  “You spilled my blood, little cat. A sin that demands punishment.”

  “Do you think I fear you?” Robin spat, her vision narrowing, a flicker of defiance igniting within her.

  “Fear? Not yet. But the shadows surrounding you will extinguish all hope,” Malakar chuckled, his laugh steeped in darkness.

  “Do not call me cat.”

  “You are small. You scratch. You create chaos. You are a cat.”

  His voice echoed through the air like a hammer on an anvil, and the soldiers flinched as Malakar inhaled deeply, the mysterious glyph on his chest turning ominously.

  “RUN! SPREAD OUT! NOW!” Robin shouted, her voice cutting through the chaos like a sharpened blade.

  “This is madness!” a soldier yelled back, “We can’t run from him!”

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  The Western Front erupted into chaos, a haunting dance of terror and despair.

  And then Malakar unleashed—

  A torrent of molten shapes shot forth from his throat—erasing the ground in a twisting line of searing symbols. “Feel the wrath of the void!” he bellowed, as the earth trembled under the power of his hatred.

  The fortress wall splintered and cracked.

  Dozens of soldiers were consumed in an instant. “No! Fall back!” a sergeant screamed, his voice drowned out by the deafening destruction.

  Robin did not hesitate—she changed.

  Her bones splintered.

  Claws grew longer.

  Ears sharpened like blades.

  Fur burst forth along her arms and spine. “This will end now, Malakar!” she hissed, her words filled with unyielding determination.

  Her pupils narrowed, resembling those of a legendary beast.

  The forbidden manifestation of her lineage:

  Beastial Ascension — Feral Regent Form

  A monstrous force, unstable and feared—even by her own allies. “They’ll never understand the power we hold,” she thought, savoring the surge of crimson rage coursing through her veins.

  “Come forth, you overgrown relic!”

  With a flicker, Robin disappeared in a flash of primal speed. “Let us see who the true predator is!” she growled, a savage grin breaking across her wild face.

  Robin leaped from the shattered remains of a tower, unleashing her fury with:

  "Moonfrenzy Claw Rend"

  Wind-slicing slashes fierce enough to cut through stone. “Taste my wrath!” she roared, her voice filled with a haunting promise of revenge.

  She slashed across Malakar’s throat, cutting through scales and sparking with each impact. Blood poured out like a dark flower rising from the turmoil. “You bleed as easily as worms!”

  Yet Malakar hardly reacted. “Foolish wretch, your efforts mean nothing to me,” he taunted, his laughter echoing like distant thunder.

  He raised a claw that was as large as a bull.

  "Wyvern King’s Grasp"

  He caught Robin mid-leap, driving her into the ground—

  with a force that shattered the earth beneath her. “Is this your best? Pathetic!”

  Robin spat blood, snarling, and leapt again. “Do you think you can hold back the storm?” she growled, rage burning in her eyes like twin suns.

  "Feral Spiral Pounce"

  A frantic assault that split into four fleeting shadows.

  With each shadow, a flicker of hope rose within her heart. "I will not let you take her," Robin hissed, madness gleaming in her fierce eyes.

  She raked her claws down Malakar’s molten chest—

  and once again, blood-ash flowed like crimson ink across the charred surface of his flesh. The sickly scent merged with the acrid taste of fear in the air. "You dare to wound the abyss, little girl," he growled, dark amusement rumbling deeply within him.

  Malakar’s single remaining eye narrowed into a deadly slit.

  “Your beastly form is a mistake. Power without shape is nothing but wasted strength.”

  He spread his massive wing—

  "Crucible Wing Rend"

  A searing slash of burning bone cut through the air, creating a deep wound in the very heart of the Western gate.

  “No!” Robin shouted, her eyes widening as the ground quaked in fear beneath the force of the blow.

  She dodged two savage swings—the third barely skimmed her chest.

  A sharp pain pierced through her body, igniting a fire of panic in her veins. "It’s just a scratch! Forget about it!" she told herself, grasping for a spark of defiance amid the crushing dread.

  Her beastly form wavered.

  Bones shattered.

  The wounds would not heal in time.

  “This ends now, Malakar!” she shouted defiantly, though her voice quaked.

  She sank onto one knee, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

  Lysandra, half-conscious, extended a trembling hand toward her.

  “Robin… flee…”

  “And abandon you here? Never!” Robin snapped back, forcing herself to stand, her resolve hardening her voice.

  “Then we shall face this darkness together,” Lysandra whispered, her eyes glowing with a flickering determination.

  Robin snarled, rising once more to her feet.

  “I will not leave you.”

  Malakar approached, a rumble like thunder echoing beneath his feet, a true force of nature.

  “Then you both will perish.”

  With a terrible motion, he tore open his ribcage. The Auditor core within pulsed with ominous energy.

  “Your defiance only feeds my insatiable hunger.”

  That moment held a weight of significance.

  Robin understood.

  The coming strike wouldn’t merely injure.

  It would annihilate.

  She braced herself to throw herself over Lysandra—

  knowing she would be the first to vanish.

  “If you take her, then you take me as well!” Robin cried, a primal roar of defiance erupting from her chest as despair tightened its grip on her heart.

  Malakar inhaled—

  Light gathered within his shattered chest. The glyph spun with growing intensity.

  “Feel the weight of despair, Robin,” he hissed, his voice a chilling echo that resonated through the chaos. “Can you comprehend the void of what awaits you?”

  Robin whispered, her voice thick with sadness.

  “Lysandra… I beg you to forgive me…”

  “You should,” Lysandra snapped back, her voice trembling like a fragile reed in a storm. “We are merely pawns in this wicked game.”

  Lysandra squeezed her eyes shut.

  “Together… then.”

  The beam was released.

  “Embrace the shadows!” Malakar roared, his passion igniting the very air, the sinister crackle of raw energy surging forward.

  The Western Front howled.

  And then—

  Something unimaginable happened.

  The beam contorted.

  Contorted.

  As if the very essence of space defied Malakar's will.

  “What sorcery is this?” Malakar stumbled back, his bravado crumbling like ancient stone beneath him.

  A voice—cold and unwavering—cut through the chaos of the battlefield.

  “…Your geometry suits a fool.”

  Every soldier, every wyvern, even Malakar—turned toward the source, their faces a mix of confusion and dread.

  A figure emerged from the chaos between Robin and Malakar, his cloak torn, eyes burning with a calm that pierced the very heart of the battlefield. “Do you truly think you have dominion over this power? It is nothing but an illusion!” he declared, the air around him thick with terror and an ominous expectation.

  “Are you?!” Robin shouted, her heart racing fiercely against her chest, fear and defiance battling within her very being. “I am the reckoning you have summoned into your realm,” the man answered, his voice a chilling whisper that echoed with the violence surrounding them. “I am the death that your hopes fear.”

  Fitran Fate.

  He appeared without a sound.

  Without light.

  Without any warning. The air around him felt heavy, a palpable unease that marked his presence.

  Simply inevitable. “It was only a matter of time,” he murmured to himself, feeling the oppressive darkness that pulsed through the environment.

  Robin gasped, her eyes wide with fear. “What is he? This isn’t simple sorcery… it feels alive!”

  “F… Fitran?”

  Lysandra gave a weak smile. “He is our salvation... or maybe our doom.”

  “Finally… My Dear Fitran... Have you come back to us as you once were?”

  Fitran’s stare was locked on the turmoil, ignoring them completely as if they were shadows. His eyes were fixed on the chaos, focused only on Malakar.

  His attention was steady, the anger in the air palpable like a storm waiting to strike.

  Malakar hissed, molten saliva sizzling on the ground. “Do you really think you can challenge me?”

  “VOIDWRIGHT. YOU DARE TO INTERFERE.”

  Fitran raised a hand, the gesture filled with unshakeable confidence. “I dare to do much more than that.”

  Void wrapped around his wrist like a silent storm, filled with ominous purpose.

  “You caused suffering for two souls while they were under my protection.”

  He moved forward with caution, leaving a trail of air that shimmered and faded. The remnants of his passage distorted the very fabric of reality.

  “That was your first mistake.”

  Malakar’s wings tightened, radiating a primal threat. “You will come to regret this, foolish wretch.”

  Fitran lifted his other hand, the void sigil glimmering like a dark star, casting an unsettling shadow over the ground.

  “Your second mistake was thinking I would not show up.”

  Robin, still partially beast, breathed heavily: “Fitran… don’t confront him alone—”

  Fitran did not turn back. “Alone? I have never been alone.”

  “I will need just a brief moment.”

  The atmosphere shattered, a cacophony of despair slicing through the air as time seemed to freeze.

  Malakar's roar resonated—

  Fitran steadied himself for his first strike—“You will tremble beneath the void’s grasp!”

  And the skies trembled, the essence of existence unraveling, as terror unfurled just beyond the horizon.