Chapter 40: Together Always

The air thickened like a lung collapsing. With a flick of his wrist, Penim opened the Rift, and the familiar dome of dark violet energy erupted around them, sealing the alleyway in a suffocating hemisphere of Intergy. Cracks spidered through the pavement as the pressure warped the space, and the rusted walls of the buildings groaned under the weight. Steam hissed violently from broken pipes, curling against the dome’s inner shell. The few homeless souls who’d been huddled near the vents scattered in terror, their silhouettes vanishing into the shadows beyond. Sen’s eyes never left Penim. Dain cracked his knuckles, flame flickering in one hand. They had stepped into the cage willingly. Now, they were ready to burn it down.

Sen (to Dain): Remember what Josar said. We can take down Penim. 

Dain: Got it.

Sen: Together.

Dain: Always.

Sen lunged first, twin trails of dark and light spiraling behind him like the tails of a comet. Dain followed close, his flames blooming at his heels, his body a blur of orange heat. They split mid-charge, flanking Penim from both sides. The Rift pulsed violently behind him, its void shimmering with stolen storms.

Sen’s blade, forged of swirling light wrapped in shadows, came down in a perfect arc. Penim twisted, gravity snapping sideways. The ground beneath Sen buckled, but Dain intercepted, flame laced through his fist as he drove it into Penim’s ribs, igniting a shockwave of fire. Penim staggered, barely recovering before the Rift flared wide, and a torrent of lightning and stone surged outward, forcing the two back.

Sen flipped through the air, hurling twin spears of light and dark in perfect unison. Penim’s Rift devoured the first, but the second struck home, embedding into Penim’s shoulder before detonating in a burst of darkness. Smoke erupted. Dain rocketed forward. He unleashed a flurry of flame-forged punches, each blow colliding with shields of air and sudden bursts of wind that Penim summoned to buffer the strikes.

From within the smoke, Penim’s hand rose. The Rift howled open and unleashed a beam of Intergy that knocked Dain back. Sen moved in with his own Intergy, colliding against Penim’s Intergy. The dome shook, pillars of scorched violet flaring through its seams.

Dain was already above Penim, descending with a fire-wreathed axe kick. The blow struck Penim’s forearm, and the two collided into the cratered street with enough force to split the concrete beneath them. Penim rolled back, flinging shards of ice laced with lightning. Sen blinked behind him in a flash of light, darkness already swirling around his fist, and landed a crushing uppercut that sent Penim spiraling back.

But Penim was not finished. The Rift burst wide, and gravity inverted. The entire dome warped. Sen and Dain were yanked sideways, slammed against debris like ragdolls before the force dropped. Dain recovered first, launching forward through a cyclone of spinning fire. He carved through the pressure and struck Penim across the face— once, twice, three times. On the fourth, Penim caught his wrist, Rift flashing, and hurled him through a wall of compacted air.

Sen charged through the smoke trail left behind. With twin blades now in hand, one of pure light, one of pure shadow, he slashed in parallel motion. Penim countered with a wall sand that clashed with Sen’s strike. Sen forced more Intergy through the blades cutting through the wall, and one of his blades skimmed Penim’s jaw. Blood. A beam of Intergy answered back from the Rift, sending Sen back into a crumbling column. Dain shot himself with flames towards Sen, catching him.

The dust hadn’t even settled but Penim was already plotting his next attack. A wall of Intergy exploded from his position— fire, ice, stone, wind, all tangled in a furious tempest. Sen and Dain braced together, one casting a dome of light, the other igniting a vortex of fire to burn through the wave. The attacks met and then shattered outward into rings of raw, unstable energy.

Silence lasted only a single beat. Sen vanished in a blur of darkness and reappeared beside Penim, blade already halfway through a strike. Penim twisted, just barely catching the blade with a gravity pulse, but it cost him. Dain’s fist connected with his chest a heartbeat later, sending him careening through a rusted vehicle that burst into flame. The dome dimmed. Penim stumbled and blood dripped from his lip. Sen’s breath was shallow. Dain’s arms trembled. The dome pulsed again.

Sen: Josar was right. We’ll be able to take him down.

Dain: Penim’s going to regret ever coming back to Krutone.

Penim: I’m not interested in you fuckers!

Sen gave a cold stare from the distance.

Sen: Too bad. You crossed with the wrong person.

Penim opened his Rift and sent out raging waters embedded with electric currents. Sen dodged to the side and Dain blasted upward, his feet igniting the alley floor beneath him as he somersaulted over Penim’s last strike. Dain twisted midair, eyes locked, heat already pulsing between his palms. He dropped like a meteor, fists blazing, slamming both into the ground. Fire surged in a circular blast, engulfing Penim’s feet. Steam shot skyward as Penim jumped back onto the crumbling ledge of a nearby fire escape. But Dain was faster. A whip of fire lashed out from his hand, catching Penim’s leg mid-jump. It coiled with violent intent, snapping him downward, slamming his back into the pavement.

Before Penim could stand, Dain’s next strike came in with a spinning, flaming kick to the ribs that launched Penim across the alley. His body smashed into a pillar of concrete, sending dust and chunks spiraling. For a moment, it looked like Penim might go still, but the Rift pulsed. Lightning crackled from the seams of his body. The air bent violently as Penim shot forward, cloaked in shadows laced with white-hot electricity. His foot connected with Dain’s chest in a perfect counter-kick, hurling the fire-user into the alley wall. Dain grunted as he rebounded, skidding on one knee, steam rising from his body.

Before Penim could press the advantage, Sen was there. He moved like a blade forged in grief, dark Intergy curling in ribbons around one arm, radiant light surging in the other. He clashed with Penim mid-step. Their impact cracked the ground beneath them as their fists collided. Penim countered with a flurry of multi-element attacks, wind, ice, fire, ligtning, all drawn from the Rift in unpredictable arcs. Sen weaved through the storm, light shielding one side of his body, shadows absorbing impact on the other. Then, he struck low, driving his fist into Penim’s chest with a focused burst of dark light. The hit knocked Penim a few steps back, but Sen didn’t give him the chance to breathe. He rocketed forward with light, striking again, this time uppercutting Penim skyward. As Penim ascended, Dain rejoined, launching off the wall behind them with fire, his fist engulfed in flame. He collided with Penim midair, their bodies swirling in a violent corkscrew as Dain slammed him downward into the earth, the impact cratering the street.

The dust hadn’t even settled when Sen dropped from above, light and dark exploding around his limbs as he twisted into a downward punch that shattered the street entirely. Penim coughed, struggling to rise, but his movements were slower now. His coat was scorched, Rift still pulsing but stuttering.

Penim: Fuck! You bastards are not what I’m after.

Penim looked at his hands.

Penim: All those damn Hybrids you’ve fought. Those were made by me. I was planning to save this for Zarnem, but since you two ass wipes want shit, I’ll give it to you!

A tremor rippled through the air. It was low, primal, and unnatural. The Rift behind Penim convulsed, not opening, but distorting, as if something within it was resisting containment. His body twitched once, then again, violently. Blood began to seep out of his skin. His eyes flickered, then rolled back, glowing with a feral, golden hue. His teeth sharpened. Claws tore through the tips of his fingers. His skin began to plate over in fragments of jagged armor, black and white. The Rift didn’t open. It consumed him. The energy fed into his chest, warping him from the inside out. His spine snapped and reshaped, limbs thickened, and from his back, tendrils of curved bone began to arc like primitive wings. He wasn't just summoning power now. He was becoming it. Half-human, half-Zagon, an abomination of war born from madness. Even the air recoiled.

Dain: What… the hell?

Sen: He’s… half Zagon.

The transformation was complete. Penim stood tall, his new form a horror of warped sinew and jagged Zagon plating. His breath came in slow, guttural heaves. Each exhale shimmered the air with gravity tremors. The Rift had vanished. There was no need for it now. And then he moved.

The street detonated beneath his feet as he launched forward. The air ruptured from the force. In the same blink, Sen was airborne, thrown sideways by a shockwave he didn’t see coming. Dain pivoted, arms flaring with fire, but Penim was already in front of him. A clawed hand tore through the concrete where Dain stood a heartbeat earlier. The pavement didn’t crack. It shattered in concentric waves, like a bomb had gone off.

Sen landed hard, tumbling through a scorched food stall. Steel twisted around him. His light and dark Intergy surged to reform his stance, but it was too late. Penim was on him. A massive backhand collided with his barrier, and it didn’t stop. The force ripped through the light shield and hurled Sen through two vehicles. Metal exploded in sparks as he carved a path through twisted frames.

Dain caught Penim with a wall of fire. The inferno surged upward surrounding him, but Penim burst through it, untouched. Black and white armor gleamed between the flames. A gravity pulse followed, a localized sphere of crushing weight, and Dain was yanked to the ground mid-flight. His back slammed into the pavement hard enough to crater it, and before he could react, Penim’s foot dropped with seismic force. Dain rolled just in time. Penim’s foot split the street open, and a geyser of dust and rebar shot up. Cracks spidered for blocks. A nearby building shuddered then began to fall. Windows burst and the top half of the building tilted, crushing the alleyway in shadow, then collapsed in full.

Sen streaked upward with a beam of radiant light, catching Dain by the collar and pulling him skyward as the building collapsed below them. But even in the air, they weren’t safe. Penim jumped. The ground disintegrated from the force of his launch. Vehicles crumpled from the suction of the gravity burst. Penim soared upward like a missile, his body trailing distortions of warped air. He met them midair and tore through Sen’s barrier with a spinning heel-kick to the gut. Sen coughed blood. The light around him scattered like glass.

Dain blasted Penim in the side with a wave of fire, but it barely singed the armor. Penim grabbed Dain by the arm and threw him downward. Dain spiraled like a comet, engulfed in his own flame, before crashing through a concrete rooftop three stories below.

Sen, blasted back from the earlier attack, caught himself against the wall of a skyscraper, creating a sword of light that pierced through the wall he held onto. Darkness swirled beneath his skin as he tried to regain control, but Penim was already there. He smashed into the wall beside him, tearing into the structure with both hands. Steel, brick, and glass erupted in all directions. Sen leapt off in time.

On the ground below, Dain rose from the rubble, limping, coughing, clothes singed. He staggered into the street just in time to see Penim land. Gravity bent outward in a ring, and Dain’s body was yanked forward against his will, scraping along the ground.

Penim grabbed him mid-drag and slammed him into a vehicle. Then another. Then another. The third one exploded. Sen descended from above in a spear of light, both blades drawn. He struck with the full fury of his Intergy. Blades met armor. Sparks only. No blood. No pain. Penim caught the second blade with his clawed hand and crushed it. The dark weapon shattered like brittle glass. Sen’s eyes widened, then Penim punched him across the chest.

Sen flew. He hit a bus so hard it tipped sideways and collapsed. The ground shook as it slammed over. Dust blanketed the air. The street was no longer recognizable. Buildings half-collapsed. Streets torn into trenches. Power lines sparked and snapped. All of it was Penim. No Rift. No ranged attacks. Just gravity and muscle, and it was enough.

Outside the Rift dome, the night air trembled with the sounds of war. Zarnem stood at the edge, his fists clenched, eyes locked on the dark, pulsing hemisphere. Explosions thudded from within, muffled but monstrous, followed by the high whine of gravity spikes and the thunder of collapsing metal. Esako shifted beside him, jaw tight, every instinct screaming to charge in. Jaze paced nearby, biting his lip, his nerves fraying with each second. Makota stood behind Shera, one hand on her shoulder.

Esako: Josar said to not attack this right? It’ll only help Penim?

Jaze: Maybe… I can use my ability to eat this barrier?

Zarnem: It’s risky.

Shera: Can they hear us?

Makota: If we call for them, would they know how to get out?

Esako: Doubt it. We can’t touch the barrier.

Makota: But what about physical hits?

Esako thought. He looked around for safety.

Esako: Get back everyone.

Jaze: Esako!

Esako: That’s an order.

Everyone but Esako tooks steps back. Esako’s hand turned red and immediately punched the violet Rift dome. Flames exploded but were immediately eaten by the barrier. There was no breaking the dome.

Makota: Shit.

Zarnem: Damn it! Why did those two have to get involved?

Esako: If this barrier opens and Penim is still alive, we must kill him as soon as we can.

Jaze: What is that sound inside, though? It’s… ugly.

Makota: What about striking it without Intergy physical attacks?

Esako: Just our fists? Are you an idiot?

Makota was taken aback. 

Esako: Sorry, but damn, think! Our hands aren’t tearing this thing apart. All we can do is hope Sen and Dain are handling it well.

Jaze: Would Josar know what to do? Maybe we get a hold of him.

Esako: I’m not using that bastard. Once an enemy of Krutone, always an enemy.

Zarnem looked to Jaze.

Jaze: Esako. We have to try.

Esako sighed angrily.

Esako: Fine. Go get him. Be quick. If President Kyto asks, tell him to punish me for it.

Without a word, Jaze left the scene, flying with wind.

Inside the Rift dome. Penim walked forward now, each step a quake. His plated feet crushed the remains of the bus, warping metal beneath him. His breathing was deeper now, the Zagon mutation pumping through him like a second heart. Sen lay coughing inside the wreck, struggling to rise. Dain crawled from the rubble, blood matting his hair, but managing to get by Sen’s side.

Sen (weakly): Josar never mentioned this.

Dain: I don’t think anyone knew about this. Even Zarnem never said anything about Penim being half Zagon.

Penim (voice distorted): What’s wrong? Wishing you died with your bitch? I can send you to wherever the fuck she went.

Penim moved. The ground beneath him cratered from the force of his leap. There was no warning, no flare of Intergy, or no pulse of power. It was just pure, monstrous speed. His form blurred into the dark, streaking forward in a violent arc. Sen didn’t react fast enough. The blow came from the side, a hammering, clawed elbow that crashed into his ribs and lifted him off his feet. His body twisted midair, slammed into the shell of a broken vehicle. Metal buckled around his frame. Sparks flew across the wreckage as Sen slid to the ground. Dain attempted to strike with flames but before any fire could come out, Penim knocked Dain far to the side. Sen staggered to rise, but Penim was already on him. One plated knee smashed into his chest. Sen’s breath ripped from his lungs flying back. Glass sprayed from the nearby windshield. His body skipped once, twice, across the pavement like a stone, until it hit the edge of the alley wall and dropped, limp.

Sen groaned. He crawled. Blood stained the pavement beneath his palms, and every muscle ached. Every breath felt like swallowing razors. Still, Penim advanced. One step. Then another. Each one sent tremors through the broken alley. His claws dragged along the concrete, cutting grooves like knives through clay. Sen tried to lift his arm. A flicker of light sparked in his palm, then faded. His Intergy stuttered. His body refused.

Penim raised one foot, cast in the armor of a Zagon, and brought it down, but it never landed. A roar of flame consumed the air between them. Penim jerked back, claws instinctively shielding his face. A pillar of fire erupted from the side, and through it came Dain.

He was a blur of fury, his body outlined in a cloak of flames. His eyes burned, not with fire, but with purpose. His muscles clenched beneath scorched clothing. Every step he took threw ash into the wind. His first punch caught Penim across the jaw. The monster reeled back and the sound of cracking armor could be heard. Dain followed with a second right into the gut, and flame exploded from his knuckles. The fire licked across Penim’s armor, and for the first time, it didn’t bounce. It burned. Dain pressed forward. Punch after punch. Kick after kick. His body became a weapon of heat and weight, smashing into Penim with relentless rhythm. Sparks and flame erupted with each impact. The ground quaked under the sheer ferocity.

He ducked a claw swipe. Rolled beneath a gravity burst. Then, he was inside. Dain drove both fists, blazing, into Penim’s chest. The armor there cracked deeper. Dain didn’t let up. He poured everything into the next strike. He screamed without sound. His fist collided again. The crack deepened. A piece flaked off. Beneath it, flesh, muscle, and bone. Penim staggered.

Dain pressed again. Fire surged through his arms, coating his entire body in molten intensity. The next punch was monstrous, arcing through the air like a meteor. It landed on Penim’s shoulder and split the armor wide. The Zagon plating screamed as it tore apart. Blood hit the ground in thick spatters. Penim roared, but in pain this time.

Sen blinked through blurred vision. He saw it happening. Dain was winning. Sen, having recovered some Intergy, fired beams of light and darkness into the open wounds of Penim. Penim stepped back, snarling. One eye swollen. One plate gone. Steam erupted from his joints. His monster form was breaking. The air shimmered with the heat of Dain’s assault and Sen’s blasts. Sen didn’t stop. He propelled himself upwards and came down on Penim with a sword of light that successfully stabbed through his back. Penim’s own voice screamed with a distorted sound. With one hand he managed to grab Sen and threw him to the side. And then, it happened. The veins in Dain’s arm shined red through his skin. He stepped forward to deliver the final strike.

Penim pivoted. His left hand, still a Zagon’s arm, a blur of jagged claws, arced through the smoke. There was no time to react. The claws slipped beneath Dain’s guard, past the flame, past the Intergy, past the muscle… and they pierced his chest. The sound was sickening. A wet, crunching pop echoed through the alley as the claws broke through the front of his ribcage, driving deep into the space beneath his sternum. Blood exploded from Dain’s mouth. His body went still. The fire around him flickered… then dimmed. Penim stared into Dain’s eyes. There was no glee. No rage. Just something cold. Something empty. The claws twisted once. Dain’s entire body convulsed.

Sen, struggling to get up, froze. Dain remained upright for a heartbeat longer, suspended by the hand impaled through his chest. His arm twitched. Then Penim ripped the claws free. Dain crumpled. His body hit the ground. His flames went out completely. Only steam rose from the gaping wound in his chest. Blood spread beneath him.

Penim stood over him, chest heaving, body broken but victorious. He turned toward Sen. The cracked armor still gleamed under the fractured moonlight. Dain’s blood dripped from his claws in heavy, rhythmic taps. Dain… did not move again.

Something inside Sen snapped. It shattered like a soul tearing in half. A scream echoed in his chest, but it never left his throat. His eyes didn’t blink. His lungs didn’t rise. Only the world changed. The temperature dropped. Then dropped again. Then plummeted.

The dome, the broken alleyway, the burning wreckage, the fractured sky sealed in Intergy, fell into a horrifying silence as black mist poured from Sen’s body. The pavement beneath Sen iced over. Frost spidered outward from his feet in every direction, coating the wreckage, swallowing the blood. It reached Dain’s still form, and rather than consume it, it paused— circled him— protected him. But everything else began to freeze.

Sen charged in, but it was sudden, it was quiet. He arrived before Penim, and slammed a punch of sheer darkness into the monster’s chest. The blow detonated outward, sending a pulse of cold that shattered the ground. Penim flew backward, clawed feet tearing twin trenches through the alley. He barely caught his balance before Sen was there again.

A blade of shadow drove for his spine. Penim twisted, his monstrous arms crossing just in time to block the strike. Sparks of corrupted Intergy burst outward as blade met bone. He reeled back, but threw a gravity burst point-blank into Sen’s chest. It did nothing. Penim was tiring out. His eyes widened. Another pulse followed, stronger. The gravity bent, warped the air, crushed a van nearby into scrap. Sen took a step forward.

Penim roared, slashing down with a double-handed swipe. Sen side stepped, barely needing to move, and carved upward with his blade. It caught Penim under the arm and sent a wave of freezing darkness surging through his body. Penim screamed in pain. A slam of his foot brought down another gravity quake, but Sen didn’t even stagger. He vanished into the haze, emerged beside Penim, and struck again. Blade to ribs. Darkness seeped into the Zagon plating.

Penim flailed. He swung wide. He stomped, kicked, swiped with both claws, but Sen moved through it all, dodging, sliding, deflecting, and then countering. A blast of dark Intergy sent Penim sprawling. He rolled through ice-crusted pavement, sparks trailing from his mutated limbs. Sen appeared before him as he rose. Then, his sword spun in his other hand, and he drove it upward into Penim’s throat. The blade sank deep. Right to the hilt, and the moment it landed, Penim froze.

Penim’s eyes went wide. The glow inside them sputtered. The armor stopped shifting. His body locked in place, dark ice crackling across the surface of his plated chest and shoulders. The veins of shadow pulsed out from the sword’s entry point, threading through him like a web of frost.

He didn’t move. He couldn’t. Sen exhaled once. A slow breath. Then, his hand flared with a second pulse, this one not dark, but radiant. The blade glowed. Light Intergy. The fusion detonated within the frozen monster.

A wave of brilliant white surged through the sword, down into Penim’s frozen form, and in the next instant— boom. Penim exploded. His body shattered into a thousand shards of burning white and obsidian black, each fragment vaporized before it could hit the ground. The wave crashed outward, erasing the dome’s remaining haze, blasting through the alley and sending the frost spiraling into the wind. The dome broke. The world returned.

Silence fell. There was no Penim. Only ash. Only a scorched outline burned into the stone where his body had been. And Sen… stood in the middle of it, sword gone, eyes dim, his entire frame trembling— not from weakness, but from what it had taken to become that weapon. Then he turned… and walked back toward Dain… then dropped to his knees. No tears.

Zarnem, Esako, Jaze, Makota and Shera were there. Citizens of Krutone were observing in shock. Some were recording. Sen looked over a little further, and there stood Josar. The Krutone medical team came running in. Esako and Jaze charged forward to help. Makota and Shera stood there in shock. Zarnem did nothing. Josar in Intergy cuffs watched with disbelief. Sen saw it all, but he couldn’t hear anything… And still, no tears.

The next morning in Krutone was almost mockingly beautiful. Light spilled through the high towers, casting golden beams across the streets. The sky, swept clean by last night’s winds, was a perfect, endless blue. No haze. No smoke. No flames. Even the birds, rare as they were in a city of steel, sang faintly in the distance, as if the city had never tasted blood.

Inside one room, the light never made it through. Sen lay on his side in a bed he hadn’t left. The curtains were drawn shut, thick enough to choke out the morning. Time was lost. The air in the room was still. Not silent, but still. The sheets were tangled around him, but he didn’t notice. His body ached, not from injury, but from emotional gravity.

He hadn’t showered. He hadn’t eaten. He hadn’t spoken. The door clicked once. Then came the knock. Soft. Not urgent. Just trying. No answer. Seconds passed. A shuffle. Then silence. Whoever it was didn’t speak or knock again. Sen didn’t turn toward the sound. Instead, he turned away from it, curling slightly as his eyes remained fixed on nothing.

On the small table beside his bed, his wristband buzzed. A message. Then another. The soft chime repeated once more, then dimmed. Sen didn’t check it. He didn’t even glance. The wristband sat there, but Sen didn’t move. His arm lay numb under the covers. His eyes blinked slowly, once, then stopped. The sunlight outside glowed against the curtains and still, it could not reach him.

From the high chamber in Prism Tower, a quiet hum filled the air as screens flickered with surveillance feeds. One of them showed Sen’s room, still dark, still unmoving. Kyto stood at the center, arms crossed behind his back, his gaze fixed on the screen. Cayten leaned against the wall, arms folded, unreadable. Lessa sat elegantly in a curved chair, one leg crossed over the other, eyes watching Sen with a strange tilt of curiosity, not concern. None of them spoke of grief. Sen’s pain was evident, but the three leaders showed no sympathy. They didn’t need him to heal. They just needed him to stay predictable. Their only concern was whether the next move he made would be theirs to control.

Cayten: Is he really not going to show up for the burial?

Lessa: Oh, the poor boy. I actually feel bad for once. So sad to see.

Cayten: I don’t think we can use him anymore. 

Kyto studied Sen harder. Still, no movement.

Cayten: He isn’t responding to his friends.

Kyto: We have Josar now.

Behind them, seated on a raised bench a few paces back, Josar watched the same screen. His expression was difficult to read. This time, his wrists were bare. No cuffs. No chains. Only his silence remained. He leaned forward slightly, elbows on knees, watching the still frame of Sen lying motionless in bed. Josar said nothing. But deep in his eyes, there was a kind of sorrow that began to resonate with Aku more.

Cayten looked back to Josar, then back to the screen.

Cayten: You have him untied.

Kyto: Trust is mutual.

Cayten (face still forward): Hey, Josar.

Josar’s eyes slowly moved towards Cayten who didn’t look at him.

Cayten: Don’t try anything.

Lessa: Oh, don’t talk to him like that.

Cayten: You’re only here to take Sen’s place. Bring Aku in.

Lessa: Oh, stop it!

Cayten: I have to make myself clear. Too many traitors among us. Josar turned against Aku. Who’s to say he won’t do that to us? And then there’s Sen taking actions on his own. Then Penim who caused all this damage here. Even Zarnem.

Lessa: Oh, don’t speak of my little Zarnem like that. He did what he could.

Cayten: I will speak of that failure anyway I want. He did what he could for himself. He backstabs Penim, runs away, leaves his mother behind, joins Clyden, picks up the strongest people he could find there, only to say he trained them so he could get credibility, just like he did here in Krutone. Then he brings them to Krutone, only for two of them to get killed from the person he betrayed in the first place… and he does it at the attempt of living up to his father’s name. The irony of his heroic journey is gross.

Lessa: Oh, wow. You really have your opinions on him. Didn’t think you dump all that at once like that.

Cayten scoffs.

Cayten: I respected his father, and I’d be embarrassed if my son continued my legacy with that much shame.

Kyto: The burial is in half an hour.

Kyto turns off the monitor. He glances once at Josar, and together all four leave the chamber.

Two graves marked the slope now. One freshly carved stone, Yerah. Still dust-lined, still with the scent of unsettled soil. And beside it, another plot opened wide. Dain's casket lay above it closed, sealed in deep, obsidian wood with gold trim curling like vines along its surface. It gleamed beneath the sun.

Zarnem sat upright, back straight, eyes locked ahead. His jaw was set, unmoving. Not a twitch. Not a flicker. Not even when the pastor raised his voice in a gentle cadence of remembrance. The words passed over Zarnem like wind over stone.

Makota and Shera sat beside him. Shera leaned gently into Makota’s side, her hand clutching his sleeve, her face stained red, her eyes swollen but silent. Her sobs had long since dried into tremors. Makota kept one arm around her, the other hand pressed against his thigh, gripping hard just to keep still. His eyes watered. He turned to Zarnem, trying to distract himself.

Makota (to Zarnem): Why isn’t Sen here? Didn’t you check on him this morning?

Zarnem didn’t say a word, eyes still locked forward.

The pastor spoke quietly, his voice smooth and distant, like it had been practiced more times than it had meant anything. He talked of bravery. Of sacrifice. Of fire, not just as an ability, but as a spirit. How Dain’s life had burned bright and warm, and how his loss would leave shadows. It was beautiful, but it felt hollow. It was a script, not a memory.

Farther back, the world leaders were present, but like monuments, not mourners. Kyto, Cayten, Lessa, Osin, Forim, Esren, Andin. All of them seated in the shade of a temporary canopy, dressed in black, their expressions unreadable. Cayten’s arms were folded. Osin looked away. Lessa dabbed her eyes with a silk cloth, but no one could tell if it was real or routine.

Josar sat not far from them. Not restrained. No guards. Just… there. Quiet. Present. He didn’t watch the casket. He watched the people. Makota’s shaking shoulders. Shera’s quiet grief. Zarnem’s stone face, unreadable even to him. Then Josar looked for Sen. Row by row. Line by line. Even the edges of the hill. But he wasn’t there. There was no light in the distance. No Intergy signature. No figure in the shadows. Sen never arrived. Josar blinked slowly. He should’ve expected that, and yet, somehow it felt worse than he thought because Sen would’ve been there. The version of him that Dain and Yerah knew and loved was gone.

The pastor gave a quiet nod. Two silent guards approached the casket. They didn’t speak. With the slow mechanical precision of honor and habit, they activated the lift beneath the coffin. With a gentle hum, it began to lower. Everyone bowed their heads, and Josar watched. The casket descended into the ground, inch by inch, the light on its surface slowly fading until only the shadows remained. Then— Thud. The bottom.

In the Void, four figures sat scattered across each other. Aku stood at the edge of a shattered cliff with his eyes closed. Scray lounged nearby with one leg hanging over the ledge. Zan sat against a large stone, bored and uninterested, burning the ground lightly with acid in circles. Sicrus leaned against a jagged pillar, waiting patiently. Then, the air behind them split. An oval pulse of warped light spiraling open like a wound, and Mayzen stepped through. His expression was unreadable. No one spoke. Not yet. But they all turned to face him, waiting. He had news.

Mayzen: Penim is confirmed dead. There’s not a single trace of his Intergy is left.

Zan: The fucker finally got wiped out.

Aku: What’s the media saying?

Mayzen: It was reported as a terrorist attack by one who controls the Zagons.

Sicrus: Damn. So, Zarnem really got the best of him, huh?

Mayzen: No. It wasn’t Zarnem.

Everyone waited for the answer.

Mayzen: New outlets are not mentioning it, but it was Sen who did it.

Aku’s expression changed, immediately turning to Mayzen in shock.

Zan: Well, I’ll be damned. Sen, of all people, took out Penim.

Sicrus: Is Josar out there?

Mayzen: Josar is there. I could sense his Intergy at the funeral… In fact, he was next to Kyto.

Sicrus: That can’t be. He can’t really be working with that dictator.

Zan: Only one way to find out. We finally go in.

Aku: Not yet.

Zan: Didn’t you say as soon as Penim is dealt with? He’s gone now.

Aku: I want to speak to Sen first. I said I’d talk to him once more.

Mayzen: The longer we wait, the more we risk the world leaders going their own way.

Sicrus: Why do you say that?

Mayzen: Josar has informed them of our plans and why we waited until now to make our move. Now is their chance to escape.

Aku: How do you know Josar spoke to them?

Mayzen: Because Penim died in one of the sectors we would hide. This can only mean Josar as outed all our hiding locations. We can no longer enter through our normal locations as some of the areas are already being placed under security.

Sicrus: Then, are you saying we go now?

Mayzen: Now or at least in the next day or two. Right now, they’re recovering from Penim’s assault. When we enter, we must enter through Krutone’s walls. It’s the least likely place they would expect us to come from.

Sicrus: Well, Aku? What do you think?

Silence. Aku remained thinking.

Mayzen: May I suggest something?

Aku: Go ahead.

Mayzen: We attack tomorrow. In that time, you meet with Sen. That is the best time to test where Sen’s beliefs align. The more you give him time, the more he will procrastinate his answer. Perhaps then, Josar may return since your wish is to have him in our alliance also. There will be enough events in Krutone going on that the world leaders will have to gather behind their military. That would be your perfect chance to finish them off. I understand that you wanted Sen to open a portal into Prism Tower, but I believe we should go with our original place. Enter with destruction.

Aku thought some more.

Aku: Penim didn’t use the Komodo, right?

Mayzen: He couldn’t… I took the shard from him before he found out. I’m sure he wanted to unleash it.

Aku: So, you’ll release it?

Mayzen: I will.

A moment of silence. Aku thought more.

Zan: To be fair, I’m bored to shit just sitting here in the Void. I’m for going all out tomorrow.

Mayzen: We will go with whatever you plan, Aku. But my suggestion is we move before it’s too late.

Aku sighed.

Aku: We go tomorrow.

Back in Krutone, the halls outside Sen’s room were quiet, steeped in a dull light that never quite chased away the shadows. Josar stood just beyond the door, wristband securely fastened around his wrist, the soft pulse of its signal syncing with the surveillance feeds. He’d already tried once. Now, he simply stood there, hands in his pockets, expression unreadable. From the high chamber in Prism Tower, a ring of monitors displayed his every movement. The world leaders watched in tense silence. They weren’t watching to see if Josar would comfort Sen.

Cayten: To be honest, I hate these risky games you play, Mr. President.

Kyto: We’re in times of war. Risks means nothing or everything.

Osin: Letting Josar out like that is a little too brave. He may deviate.

Kyto: Then we kill him.

Cayten: Then we don’t have leverage over Aku.

Kyto: Then we fight with our own hands.

Silence.

Lessa: Oh, my. This has turned into quite a mess.

Cayten: We’re going to kill Josar in the end anyways, aren’t we?

Kyto: Correct.

Cayten: So, we’re just making use of him while we can. 

Kyto: When Aku attacks, we can dispose of him.

Cayten: If that’s the case, I think you should’ve just let Josar be the leverage. If Sen doesn’t budge, then he doesn’t budge, we move on. Using Josar isn’t going to entertain Sen. It’s not like—

Kyto raises his finger, silencing Cayten. Through the monitor, Josar knocks again.

Josar: Hey… Sen… it’s Josar. I know I’m probably not who you want to see right now, but I just came to check on you.

Silence.

Josar waited a little while longer. Nothing. He sighed slowly and was ready to turn around. Then, the door opened. Not all the way. Just opened, left with a crack. Sen must’ve opened the door. Josar hesitated at first, but finally opened the door. He looked into the dark room, seeing Sen sitting on his bed with his back turned away. The curtains were opened and Sen was found looking at Kurtone’s city lights. Josar entered slowly.

Josar: You let me in.

The words came like breath through a fracture. Josar stood near the door, unsure of how close to get. Sen didn’t turn around. The bandanged body of his silhouette sat motionless at the edge of the bed, the city lights bleeding across his back. Sen said nothing.

Josar: You weren’t at Dain’s burial.

The reminder wasn’t an accusation. It was an observation. Still nothing.

Josar: Are you… going to still work for Kyto?

Sen’s body shifted. Just barely.

Sen: That’s what this is about? You could’ve just started with that.

The words weren’t bitter. Just tired.

Josar: Well… I also wanted to see how you were doing.

He said it with a softness that didn’t match the steel of Sen’s silence.

Sen: Why? You don’t know me enough to care.

Josar lowered his eyes.

Josar: I did help you find Penim.

The attempt to connect sounded smaller than it was meant to. Sen didn’t reply.

Josar: And I partly regret that. I wish I never gave you the locations. Maybe Dain would still be here.

There was a tremble in his voice, buried under restraint.

Sen: We knew what we were doing… and to answer your question, no. I don’t give a shit about Kyto. You can tell him that.

A pause. The city lights outside flickered.

Josar: I understand.

But he didn’t. Not fully. Not the weight Sen carried. Not the shape of the hole left behind. Almost a minute goes by.

Josar: If there’s anything I can—

Sen: There’s nothing you can do. Nothing you can do is going to bring back Dain or Yerah. Stop acting like you’re one of us.

Josar didn’t know how to respond. His lips parted, then closed.

Sen: You work for Kyto now, don’t you? That’s why you’re here? For him? You’re just… another one of them now.

Josar’s chest tightened.

Josar: No. I’m here because if I didn’t come, they’d send someone worse.

He looked down at his own hands.

Sen: Look, I get it. I remind you of what Aku used to be. But don’t use me in that way. I’m not here to remind you of whatever happy times you both used to have. Don’t be selfish and use me in that way.

Sen’s voice didn’t raise.

Josar: It’s not that.

Sen: Then why? You don’t make any sense.

Sen's eyes remained on the city, but Josar could feel the weight of that question pulling him under. Silence.

Josar (quietly): I am being selfish. Usually, I’m not. I failed.

More silence.

Sen didn’t turn around. But Josar could feel like he was being seen right through.

Josar: I couldn’t save Aku… If it’s one thing Aku kept talking about, it was reuniting with you and family. He always said that he was going to change the world so families would never have to split into separate worlds like the way yours was.

Josar lowered his voice even more.

Josar: He used to say he wanted to make you all proud… proud enough that maybe you’d want him back… that if he built something good enough, powerful enough, you’d see him and not turn away. It wasn’t to make any of you feel guilty for throwing him away, but rather just a way to earn a place back home.

Josar tensed.

Josar: And I could’ve helped him… As someone he knew like a brother, I was supposed to help him, but instead, I failed… and I feel like I failed myself.

Each word slowed.

Josar: And now, here we are… I don’t want you to become what he became. I get that you’re two different people, but I don’t want to fail him again.

His voice caught for a moment.

Josar: So yeah, maybe it is selfish. Maybe I am doing this for me. Maybe I’m just… trying to correct the places where I broke too late…

Josar sighed slowly.

Josar: Maybe through you, I’m just trying to show Aku what he could be.

Sen shifted. Maybe he was uncomfortable, or maybe he was moved.

Josar: Why did you let me in?

Sen: You gave me Penim’s location. Letting you in was something you’d deserve at the least.

Josar didn’t know what to follow up with.

Sen: If that’s all you wanted to say, you can leave now.

Josar took a slow breath and turned around. He was almost about to leave the room.

Sen: I’m not asking to be saved, Josar.

The door shut quietly, and Sen remained alone in his dark room.