Chapter 45: Krutone Falls

A few days earlier, deep within the colorless expanse of the Void, Aku and Sicrus sat side by side on a jagged ledge of hill. Around them stretched an infinite silence, the air neither hot nor cold, the light neither bright nor dark. Aku sat with his eyes closed, The Orb faintly glowing in his hands, while Sicrus leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees, eyes fixed on the shifting horizon that never changed.

Sicrus: Anything new?

Aku opened his eyes slowly, a thin breath escaping his lips.

Aku: Yeah…

Sicrus turned his head slightly, sensing the change in Aku’s voice.

Sicrus: What now?

Aku stared into The Orb.

Aku: I can feel… two entities. I wasn’t sure what it was at first. I thought it was just dark and light I was feeling. But now, I know it’s two souls… And I can move them.

Sicrus’s brow furrowed faintly.

Sicrus: Moving two souls?

Aku: I don’t know how to explain it… or even how I know to do it. I just… do.

Sicrus nodded slowly, as if accepting the impossibility without question. They had seen too much to doubt the surreal.

Sicrus: How long have you known?

Aku: I suppose since I picked up The Orb. I just didn’t know what to call it at first.

Sicrus: Do they communicate with you?

Aku’s gaze drifted into the blankness of the skyless dome above them.

Aku: Not verbally… but through Intergy, yes.

Sicrus: What do they say?

A long pause. The silence of the Void pressed inward.

Aku: Pain. Just like last time I told you. Pain.

They both fell quiet.

Sicrus: When you kill Kyto and the rest of them, what then?

Aku didn’t answer right away. The Orb continued to hum faintly in his hands.

Sicrus: Will you stay to watch?

Aku: No.

Sicrus nodded once, without surprise.

Sicrus: I see…

Aku: The Orb will be destroyed after this is all done.

Sicrus turned his head sharply, eyes narrowing.

Sicrus: And then what?

Aku: And then… Intergy will fade to nothing… generations at a time.

Sicrus looked to Aku with curiosity, maybe disbelief.

Sicrus: Intergy will no longer exist?

Aku nodded again, this time slower, heavier.

Sicrus: How do you know that?

Aku: The Orb tells me. Not verbally… I just, know. The Orb is the source of all Intergy. So long as it exists, so will Intergy.

Sicrus studied him. The light from The Orb painted gentle shadows over Aku’s face, making him look both ancient and young.

Sicrus: Is that what you want?

Aku: Maybe. It might be what we always needed.

The Void offered no wind or sound.

Sicrus: If you’re not going to stick around to see if things change, does that mean you’re going to die?

Aku doesn’t reply.

Sicrus: I see…

There was no bitterness in Sicrus’s voice, only tired understanding.

Aku: And you?

Sicrus: Probably the same.

Aku: You don’t want to witness the world change either?

Sicrus: The world isn’t going to accept me back. I’ve already taken too many lives. I doubt I’ll have a home to return to… Not that I ever had a home in the first place.

Aku: So, you also plan to die then?

Sicrus: I’ve been wanting to die for a while now…

Aku didn’t respond. Instead, he extended The Orb toward Sicrus with a single hand.

Aku: Put your hand on it.

Sicrus blinked.

Sicrus: What?

Aku: Just do it.

Sicrus hesitated at first, as if the glowing core might burn him or take something. Then, without another word, he placed his hand gently atop it. The Orb lit up instantly, a radiant pulse of white and black streaming into Sicrus’s palm. He clenched his jaw as the surge passed through him. After a few seconds, the glow dimmed again.

Sicrus: What is this?

Aku: That’s the other half. Feel different?

Sicrus looked down at his hand, flexing his fingers.

Sicrus: I do.

Aku: Use it when you feel it’s right.

Aku lowered The Orb to his lap, its glow now faint, pulsing like a distant heartbeat in the dark. Neither of them spoke. The silence between them was no longer heavy with tension. Sicrus leaned back slightly, resting his head against the jagged rock behind him, his eyes half-lidded as if watching the void breathe. Aku remained still, staring into the endless horizon where time didn’t move and nothing ever changed. They had said what needed to be said. Now, only the silence remained.

Zagons stormed the perimeter of the Krutone Communications Center like a living flood. The sky above flickered with distant Intergy pulses, but at ground level, the only light came from the inferno Esako was unleashing. Standing at the front steps, his arms outstretched, Esako’s body radiated unbearable heat. The air around him shimmered, warping like a mirage, and every time he thrust his fists forward, a torrent of fires exploded outward, vaporizing any Zagon that dared approach. Their bodies disintegrated mid-charge, flesh and bone reduced to ash before they hit the ground. Each breath he exhaled scorched the earth, turning the concrete red-hot beneath his boots.

Beside him, Jaze moved like a whirlwind of raw Intergy. One moment, he hurled jagged spears of ice that impaled three Zagons mid-leap. The next, he swept his palm upward and a the ground cracked open crushing clusters of Zagons He danced between elements with inhuman fluidity, lightning arced from his fingers, fire spun from his heels, wind blades slashed through Zagon throats. His control was effortless, deadly, and precise. A Zagon lunged at his blind spot, but Jaze spun and slammed it with stone, flattening it into the pavement like a splattered insect.

The Communications Center itself shook under the onslaught, glass panels shattering under the pressure of Zagon claws, but the line held. Esako’s flames lit up the entire plaza, while Jaze launched himself skyward on a pillar of wind and rained down elemental chaos of thunderbolts, stone spikes, and spirals of flame. The Zagons kept coming, their roars deafening, but every step forward was met with overwhelming force. The ground was already littered with burning carcasses and fractured limbs.

Yet still, more poured from the shadows. Jaze landed beside Esako, his chest rising with strained breath. Out of the smoke and chaos, Sen burst into the fray, his body cloaked in a swirling halo of darkness and shimmering light. With a single bound, he cleaved through three Zagons midair, his fused Intergy slicing them cleanly in half before their shrieks could echo. He landed hard, and in the same motion, extended his arm, an arc of dark-light energy surged outward in a crescent, vaporizing a line of beasts charging toward the communications gate. The shockwave from his arrival blasted debris and dust into the sky, momentarily silencing the battlefield.

Esako: Sen! You’re here?

Kyto (running closer): Quick! Get the airship prepared for take off!

Jaze: It’s not quite ready yet, President!

Kyto (arriving): After all this time!?

Esako: The Zagons just keep coming! There’s so many of them! We can’t start it up if they keep attacking!

Kyto (to Sen): Can you hold them back?

From the left flank, a thunderous crash split the chaos. Massive boulders wreathed in golden Intergy, hurtling across the battlefield like meteors. They slammed into the advancing horde of Zagons with devastating force, flattening dozens of them in an instant. Seconds later, sharp gusts of slicing wind tore through the smoke, carving through Zagon throats and torsos with surgical precision. Shera dropped into view beside Zarnem, her hair whipping in the storm she conjured. Together, they joined.

Kyto (to Zarnem): That was quick. Did you finish him?

Zarnem: He wasn’t much. Easy kill.

Jaze (to Kyto): Mr. President, I might be able to do it. Blow off all the Zagons. It’ll buy us time to fill the airship with Intergy.

Kyto: No! It’s too risky. You could blow the airship! We need to hold it back!

Sen darted forward without a sound, his body a blur of motion. Shadows wrapped around his arms like serpents while radiant light pulsed from his core. He moved with ruthless efficiency, one swipe of dark-light energy cleaved through a hoard of Zagons, their forms disintegrating mid-screech. Another leap, another kill, his fists erupted with focused blasts that punched holes clean through monstrous chests. His face was blank, distant, his strikes fueled not by fury or desperation, but by sheer, controlled power. Every Zagon that neared him fell, some sliced in half, others reduced to smoldering dust in an instant.

Zarnem (to Esako): Get the airship ready! Sen, Shera and I will hold them back.

Esako nodded. He, Jaze and Kyto ran into the Krutone Communications Center, a single floor building that stretched miles away.

The battlefield outside the Communications Center raged. Sen shot forward in a burst of dark-light Intergy, launching a lance of condensed power straight through the heads of five Zagons, their bodies erupting in flashes of smoke and flame. Shera swept to the side, her hair whipping in the wind she conjured. Gale-force blades whirled around her, slicing through limbs and necks. Zarnem stood firm in the center, his arms raised toward the heavens as great slabs of stone erupted from the ruined earth. With a roar, he hurled them across the battlefield like meteors, flattening packs of Zagons beneath tons of unforgiving weight. Sand rose at his feet, spinning into storm-walls that caught enemies mid-charge before hardening into jagged pillars of stone, skewering them. Blood, ash, and dust painted the air. Despite their efforts, the Zagons kept coming. Every wave of death met another behind it.

Meanwhile, inside the sprawling expanse of the Communications Center, the walls hummed with Intergy. Kyto, Esako, and Jaze sprinted through a corridor of flickering crystal lights, making their way to the hangar bay where the airship awaited. Its sleek, black frame hovered inches above the platform, engines glowing dimly, Intergy conduits pulsing but not yet ready. The cockpit lights flickered red, fifty percent charged.

Without hesitation, Jaze and Esako rushed to either side of the ship and pressed their palms to the control handles embedded in the charging terminal. Kyto followed, his breath ragged. The three poured their Intergy into the system, streams of fire, lightning, and control flowing from their bodies into the vessel. The room lit up with color.

Jaze gritted his teeth, eyes locked on the rising charge meter.

Jaze (whispering): Come on…

The needle jumped. 51%. Then 57%. Then 62%.

The battlefield rumbled with claws and fury. Sen carved through the swarm with streaks of fused dark-light, but the more he killed, the more surged forward. Shera spun at his flank, her wind walls slicing clean through a row of monsters, yet the gusts felt smaller compared to the massive bulk of the beasts that followed. Zarnem, arms outstretched, summoned a barrage of stone and sand from the broken street, crushing Zagons with sheer weight. Still, it wasn’t enough. The hoard had doubled. Tripled. Quadrupled. Shadows stretched from every alley and street. For a moment, even the air itself felt heavy.

Then the sky split open. A pillar of blue lightning crashed down, vaporizing sections of Zagons in a blinding pulse. The ground trembled as electricity webbed outward, leaping from corpse to corpse, igniting the battlefield in searing arcs. The brightness faded, revealing a lone figure standing amid the cratered ruin. Dust faded. Intergy clung to his skin.

It was Josar. He walked forward through the dissipating smoke, calm but smoldering with power. In his arms, limp and lifeless, was the broken body of Makota. His face bore no expression, only silence. The air around him crackled. Josar stopped beside Sen, Zarnem, and Shera. His chest rose with a deep breath. Without a word, Josar laid Makota’s body gently on a slab of stone. Then, his eyes lifted.

Shera (shocked): Ma-ko-ta?...

Shera stumbled forward, her wind faltering for the first time. She dropped to her knees beside the body, eyes wide with disbelief. Blood soaked through Makota’s torn clothing, his face pale and peaceful in death. Her trembling hands hovered above his chest, unwilling to touch what felt too final.

Shera: No... No, no, no...

Her voice cracked under the weight of the loss. Then it erupted into a raw, anguished scream that tore through the air. The Zagons surged forward in that instant, sensing weakness, a break in the wall. Dozens lunged, claws bared, jaws snapping, but then, blue lightning came through. Josar hurled himself forward with a sweep of electrified wind that blasted the front ranks back. He moved with visible exhaustion, his strikes less fluid now, but still laced with deadly force. Sen joined without a word. He moved alongside Josar like a shadow, his dark-light Intergy weaving through the gaps Josar left behind. Together, they pushed the Zagons back again. The monsters howled and regrouped.

Josar: Mayzen did it. He killed Makota.

Zarnem: Mayzen? The one that doesn’t fight?

Shera: I knew we shouldn’t have left him behind! Damn it!

Zarnem: I don’t understand.

Josar: I’ve also never seen Mayzen fight. I didn’t know he could.

Shera continued crying over Makota’s body. More Zagons came in, but Josar answered them with lightning again.

Josar: What’s the situation?

Zarnem: The airship is being charged now. We’re holding back Zagons.

Josar: What’s the hold up?

Zarnem: The airship needs Intergy. Right now it’s only two others with President Kyto charging the ship.

Josar: Then you go all go! I can handle them. They’re just Zagons.

Zarnem turned to Shera.

Zarnem: I’m sorry, Shera, but we need to leave his body. We must go now.

Shera: No!

Zarnem: Shera, damn it! We need to help charge the ship! Get on your fucking feet now! We can cry about it later!

Shera looked at Makota’s cold body a little longer. She wiped her tears and got on her feet.

Zarnem (to Josar): You’ll be fine?

Josar: I’ll fine.

Zarnem and Shera left the scene. Josar turned to Sen.

Josar: You’re staying?

Sen doesn’t reply.

The ground trembled as another wave of Zagons emerged from the smoke as their screeches split the air. Josar planted his foot forward and swung his arm, casting a spiraling current of wind and lightning outward. The blast tore through the first line, bodies disintegrating in bursts of light and scorched flesh. But the rest kept coming, trampling over their fallen, eyes glowing with primal hunger. Sen shot forward. He leapt high, crashing down with a sweeping arc that split two Zagons clean in half. Another clawed at him from behind, but Sen pivoted, twisting mid-air and slicing its head off with a beam of raw fused energy. His eyes burned with fury, his movements sharp and efficient. His every strike carried the weight of his grief and questions.

Josar backed him up, weaving between blasts. His lightning danced through their enemies each strike surgically placed, crackling through sinew and skull. A Zagon nearly tackled him, but Josar spun low and jabbed his palm into the beast’s chest, sending a pulse of lightning straight through its heart. The corpse exploded behind him as he turned to face the next. The battlefield was chaos, but in its center stood Sen and Josar, bodies battered, Intergy nearly depleted, yet unwavering. They didn’t speak.

Outside Prism Tower, the sky burned a smoky orange as the city groaned beneath the weight of war. Standing on the fractured plaza at the tower’s base, Sicrus, Zan, and Mayzen observed the chaos with detached focus. Ash drifted through the air, swirling around their unmoving forms. Zan rolled his shoulders, while Sicrus stood still, arms crossed, his eyes locked on the tower’s highest point. Mayzen stood between them, fingers loosely twitching at his sides, his gaze unnervingly calm as he processed every sound, every tremor.

Sicrus: Where’s Aku?

Ash drifted past Mayzen’s expressionless face. He blinked slowly, voice calm, as if the answer didn’t matter.

Mayzen: He wants to be alone.

Sicrus turned his head slightly, his tone colder now.

Sicrus: That wasn’t my question.

There was a beat of silence. Mayzen paused.

Mayzen: He’s alone at the top of Prism Tower.

Zan exhaled through his nose, acid mist seeping between his teeth.

Sicrus: And Josar?

Mayzen’s eyes flickered faintly, sensing what the others couldn’t.

Mayzen: I can sense him east of here. He’s fighting again. Perhaps the Zagons. And there’s Sen’s Intergy also. Working together.

Zan let out a low, mocking laugh that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Zan: So, you mean to tell me that sad excuse of a man could fight this entire time?

Mayzen: I didn’t expect it myself.

A gust of heat swept across the plaza, carrying with it the charred scent of a dying city. Sicrus’s brow furrowed.

Sicrus: What about the situation? Are they all dead? Did Aku finish the job?

Mayzen looked up briefly at the distant top of the tower where Aku lingered like a storm held back by silence.

Mayzen: Almost.

Zan cracked his knuckles, his acidic breath hissing softly into the air.

Zan: I took care of Cayten.

Mayzen: Kyto seems to have escaped.

Sicrus’s voice grew sharper, his posture tensing.

Sicrus: And we’re not chasing?

Mayzen: Aku’s orders.

Sicrus: What about Josar?

Mayzen: It’s highly probable that Aku’s given up on him. You should too. I’m sure we all saw how Josar fought the Komodo.

Sicrus didn’t reply.

Zan: Where could Kyto possibly run to?

Mayzen crouched, drawing a small arc in the soot with one finger.

Mayzen: Clyden.

Zan grinned.

Zan: Oh, how funny! Sen is going back home. That’s where they want the final arena to be?

Sicrus: It’s pointless.

Mayzen: It is. Maybe that’s why Aku wants his time. We’re still good on Zagon numbers, and it would seem we’ve wiped out nearly all of Krutone’s military. Clyden’s military will be that much easier.

Sicrus: Update on Scray?

Mayzen: Why do you even bother asking? You know he was no match for this war.

Zan looked up at the bloodied horizon.

Zan: So, who’s all left then? Us here and Aku?

Mayzen slowly stood, his gaze sweeping over the ruined city with eerie composure.

Mayzen: The only important ones.

Zarnem and Shera burst through the wide steel doors of the Communications Center, panting and bloodied, their clothes torn from battle. The glow of Intergy pulsed around their arms as they sprinted through the corridor, finally catching sight of Esako, Jaze, and Kyto ahead, each with a hand pressed against the glowing charge handles of the airship. Sparks of energy surged through the room, flickering like lightning inside the vessel’s core. Without a word, Zarnem and Shera rushed forward, planting their palms against the remaining conduits. The moment their Intergy connected, the ship groaned to life with renewed urgency, lights flashing across its hull as the charge accelerated.

Kyto: Where are Sen and Josar?

Zarnem: They’re holding back the Zagons for us.

The needle jumped. 82%. Then 88%. Then 92%.

Jaze: Just about there!

100%.

Esako: Done!

Esako jumped into the airship the moment the dial struck full. His boots clanged against the metal ramp as he rushed aboard, flames still flickering faintly along his arms. A split second later, the vessel groaned to life. The humming began low and deep, then crescendoed into a sharp, steady vibration that echoed through the vast chamber. Intergy lit up along the sides of the ship, pulsating like arteries awakened. The engines spun with layered resonance, casting wind and heat across the floor. The airship was alive, charged, ready, and waiting for escape.

Kyto turned to Zarnem.

Kyto: Your father Zash would be proud of you. Your mother Jezra, too.

Zarnem remembered his mother, then made no comment.

Jaze: Let’s go!

Zarnem, Kyto, Shera, and Jaze ran into the airship next.

From the burning edge of the battlefield, Sen and Josar heard the unmistakable hum of the airship coming to life.

Josar (to Sen): Let’s go!

They turned and sprinted toward the communications building, leaving behind the charred remains of Zagons and shattered pavement. Behind them, the ground shook under clawed feet as the horde gave chase, their screeches rising into a deafening roar. Zagons burst through smoke and fire, crawling over their fallen, desperate to reach the fleeing warriors. Sen and Josar didn’t look back. Their feet pounded against the broken floor, the howl of pursuit growing louder with every second. The airship’s ramp was just ahead.

At the very top of Prism Tower, Aku sat on the edge of the jagged steel crown, a solitary figure suspended between storm and fire. One side of the burned in brilliant orange, Krutone drowning in flames. The other side lay cloaked in darkness. Aku’s hood hung low, casting his face in shadow, but his presence radiated quiet finality. In his palm, The Orb hovered, spinning slowly, its surface reflecting both the light of ruin and the storm of judgment. He stared down at Krutone’s divided carcass, not with anger, but with the steady, unblinking calm of someone who had already made peace with the ending.

Aku (thinking): So, this is what the top looks like. It’s quiet here. Nothing like the noise down there… the screams, the sirens, the begging. From here, you’d never know a world was dying. Krutone was never a place for people like me. Not really. It was a machine, one that smiled while it chewed anyone alive. I was one of the throwaways. Born wrong. Raised wrong. And I used to think maybe if I just did everything right, maybe someone would reach down and pull me out. But no one ever did. No one ever planned to.

Aku retracted The Orb.

Aku (thinking): They taught people how to climb—climb over others, over corpses, over silence. And the higher anyone goes, the more blind they become. It’s always been like that. They built this place on buried truths. Every law, every building, every broadcast—it’s all been a cover. A way to make the evil feel holy while the rest rot. They’ll say I destroyed the world, but this world was already destroyed. It was broken when I was born into it. I didn’t ruin it. I just stopped pretending it was whole. People think there’s some big difference between villains and heroes. There isn’t. It’s just who's allowed to hurt and still be forgiven. Call me whatever. A god. A demon. A mistake. Doesn’t matter. None of those names belong to me. What belongs to me is the silence before it ends. That’s all I ever was.

Sen and Josar burst through the crumbling doorway of the Communications Center, their chests heaving. Behind them, the deafening roar of approaching Zagons echoed like a tidal wave of death closing in. The others—Zarnem, Shera, Esako, Jaze, and Kyto—stood in the airship, now fully powered, its engine humming with intensity but not yet airborne. The hangar lights flickered from the damage, casting shadows that jittered across the walls. Sen glanced back. The hallway was filling with Zagon shrieks. Josar stumbled for a moment, then steadied himself, his body still crackling faintly with residual lightning. The first of the beasts came into view, their eyes glowing, their pace relentless. Then came the hoards of Zagons rushing in.

Josar: Sen go! I’ll hold them down.

Sen looked to Josar, unsteady.

Josar: Go!

Sen ran into the airship.

Josar turned back toward the swarm without hesitation, lightning surging from his hands in jagged arcs that tore through the oncoming Zagons. His movements were slower now, every strike costing him more, but his expression never wavered. He stood between the beasts and the airship. The airship began to lift, its humming deepening into a rising roar. Dust and debris swirled around Josar as the hangar shook under the force of the engines. Still, he fought. Still, he stayed. Josar kept lashing out, burning through what little energy he had left, but the swarm was endless. As he saw the airship finally rising above the rooftops, creating distance, something inside him sparked with urgency. He turned and tried to run. He tried to summon a streak of lightning to carry him forward like before, but nothing came. No surge. No storm. His Intergy was flickering, drained. He stumbled forward, pushing off the ground with fading strength, eyes locked on the airship as it floated farther away, just out of reach, but he kept running. The Zagons chased him.

Zarnem: We need to save him.

Kyto (coldly and quietly): Leave him.

Sen turned his head slowly, disbelief and fury twisting across his face as he stared at Kyto like he was something less than human. Without a word, Sen planted his feet, channeling his Intergy outward. A surge of weight pressed the airship down mid-lift, grinding its ascent to a halt. Everyone aboard staggered as the vessel groaned under the sudden drag. Sen stretched out his hand over the edge, eyes locked on Josar stumbling through the horde. At the last second, just before the Zagons could close the gap, their fingers touched, then locked. With a grunt, Sen yanked Josar upward, dragging him into the ship as the creatures lunged beneath them. The moment Josar was inside, Sen released his Intergy. The pressure lifted, and the airship surged skyward, leaving behind a field of monsters and blood.

From the shadowed plaza below Prism Tower, Sicrus, Zan, and Mayzen stood in silence, eyes fixed on the horizon. The airship was barely a speck now, rising steadily through the smoke-laced sky, its engines leaving a faint trail of heat behind. None of them spoke. Above them, at the very peak of the tower, Aku sat motionless, hood still draped low over his face.

At the front of the airship, Esako and Jaze sat at the control panel, hands steady on the flight handles, eyes fixed ahead. The windshield was streaked with smoke and ash, glowing faintly under the dim light of the sky as Krutone shrank behind them. Neither of them spoke. The silence between them wasn’t awkward. It was heavy. There was nothing left to say.

In a corner near the back, Shera sat with her knees tucked to her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around them. Her face was buried in her arms, but the trembling of her shoulders gave everything away. Makota’s name never left her lips, but it echoed in her mind over and over again. Kyto sat by himself, head leaned back against the cold wall, his eyes glazed and unfocused. The weight of the last hours dragged on him like chains. Every decision, every compromise, every deception—none of it mattered anymore. The world he’d shaped, controlled, justified… it was gone. Now he was just a man in a chair, running from what he couldn’t stop.

Zarnem stood in the middle aisle, his gaze shifting between the others, then settling on Sen and Josar. Both of them were standing at one of the side windows, looking out. Quiet. Still. And then the view came. Through the dark, rolling smoke and broken clouds, they saw it: Krutone. The once-mighty land of power was now nothing but fire and ruin. Towers crumbled, and Intergy lines flickered out. The streets were buried in smoke, and the sky glowed red. The empire was gone, and no one said a word.