Chapter 49: Devastation

Esako and Jaze dashed down the fractured main avenue of Clyden, their boots pounding against cracked pavement slick with ash and blood. Around them, buildings burned in slow collapse, casting jagged shadows across the skyline. Up ahead, past a downed transport ship and a shattered monument, a lone figure stepped into the street. Mayzen. His long coat fluttered in the scorched wind, eyes calm. Esako and Jaze stopped in front of him.

Esako: Mayzen!

Mayzen: Kyto’s puppets. How was it like taking my place? 

Jaze: He’s the traitor?

Esako: He is. From the documents, this is him.

Mayzen: I take it you’re not going to let me get to Kyto?

Esako: What kind of idiot question is that?

Mayzen: I see, you let Aku slip past you.

Jaze: Aku crossed us?

Esako: Can you hold down Mayzen? We still don’t know what he can do. And you’re the one who can use every ability. You’re the best equipped to fight him. No matter what element he uses, you’ll always have a counter. I’m going after Zan.

Jaze focused on Mayzen who stood unbothered.

Jaze: I’ll do it.

Esako gave one last look at Mayzen, then instantly ignited flames from his feet, propelling himself and flying away from the scene.

Mayzen: You’re the mutant, right? I learned about you. When you were a child, you were already using every element as if every power was your primary. What a fascinating one you are.

Jaze: And you? The mutant that can extract memories.

Mayzen: What of it?

Jaze: But you can secretly fight, can you?

Mayzen: And you’re here to find out.

Mayzen’s eyes began to glow green.

Jaze: Why did you betray Krutone?

Mayzen: Because I have answers, and you don’t.

Jaze gritted his teeth, fire and ice forming around him. The pavement beneath Mayzen's boots began to blacken and flake, as if the ground itself had contracted a disease. A sickly green Intergy seeped outward in web-like tendrils, corrupting everything it touched. Stone cracked, metal rusted, and nearby flames shriveled with a hiss. The rot pulsed with life, almost breathing, and soon the air shifted. A rancid stench bloomed like an invisible fog, thick and oppressive, curling into Jaze’s nostrils with the weight of decay and bile. It wasn’t just the smell of rot, it was the scent of memory, of dying minds, of decomposing thoughts pulled from souls too long dead. The world around them dimmed, not from darkness, but from deterioration, like reality itself was starting to sour under Mayzen’s presence.

Jaze: What the fuck is this?

Mayzen: Welcome… to my graveyard…

Shera stood amid the swirling ash, her hair whipping around her face. Across from her, Zan grinned with feral delight, acid dripping from his fingertips onto the fractured street, each hiss like a taunt. Shera raised her arms, the sky above darkening as wind coiled like a living serpent around her frame. Zan simply tilted his head, eyes gleaming with playful violence.

Zan (mocking): You gonna cry for Makota again, sweetheart? Or will you scream this time?

Shera didn’t answer. She launched forward, the wind exploding beneath her feet as she struck first, fast, sharp, precise, but Zan welcomed it with open arms.

The moment the wind lashed across Zan’s body, his skin tore open, not with blood, but with sloshing wet slits of sizzling acid that hissed as they opened. From the wounds, thin, whip-like strings of acid launched outward toward Shera, sizzling through the air. She spun back, the gusts beneath her feet, lifting her into a sharp, controlled arc that narrowly dodged the incoming tendrils. The moment she touched down again, another gust fired her to the left, her agility a blur against the backdrop of crumbling city blocks.

Zan didn’t move much. In fact, it was almost insulting how little effort he put in. His stance was relaxed, body half-slouched as if the fight bored him. Shera, by contrast, darted across the battlefield, her hair torn loose by wind, her expression tight with focus and urgency. She hurled blade-sharp gusts toward him, forcing him to react, but every time he flicked acid in her direction, she countered with bursts of wind, dispersing the droplets into harmless sprays that sizzled harmlessly on the cracked pavement.

Refusing to relent, Shera began tearing the battlefield apart. With wide sweeps of her arms, she summoned columns of wind that ripped street signs from their anchors, bent steel poles into javelins, and lifted broken concrete slabs like missiles. She hurled them all at Zan in a furious barrage. They struck him full-on, metal bending, rock shattering, steel piercing, and still, he never dodged. The impacts tore chunks from his body, revealing the liquified mass underneath, steaming and bubbling like molten venom.

And yet, he reformed. Slowly, deliberately, strings of acid slithered out from the ruptured points, knitting back together. Shera watched closely now, her mind racing. She was trying to learn how. Every time he was struck, his body didn’t flinch. Not through will, but through something far worse: familiarity. Like this wasn’t pain to him. This was routine.

Zan cocked his head, irritated by the silence in her attack.

Zan: You done?

His arm twitched, and once again, a casual spray of acid launched toward her. She darted back with the grace of instinct, wind spiraling beneath her and guiding her from the toxin’s path. But then, he lifted his chin slightly, and exhaled. A cloud of acid mist burst from his mouth, thick and glowing faintly green. It expanded like a slow explosion, curling through the air, hissing with chemical hunger. Shera didn’t hesitate. She summoned a gale from the ground, a cyclone of roaring wind that tore through the mist and blew it away into the sky, scattering it over the burning rooftops.

Shera: They say you’re scary, but you’re nothing but cheap tricks.

Zan: Oh!? Fighting words.

Shera: I’m going to kill you and Mayzen.

Zan: How’s it like being unimportant?

Shera didn’t respond but gave a look of confusion.

Zan: Seriously. I’m still trying to figure out why you’re even in all of this mess. Who are you to Sen? Who are you to Kyto? You’re just side trash.

Shera: Same could go for you.

Zan: Hahaha! Trust me. I’m not side trash. You’re forgettable. Me? People will always remember me. I also contribute to my cause. If it wasn’t for Makota dying, I’d forget you even existed.

Zan took a step forward.

Zan: I can send you with him if you’d like.

Shera took a stance, ready to fight.

Shera: Try me.

Zan: You need to be humbled. I don’t know where you get this confidence from, but holy shit!

Zan blurred forward with sizzling velocity, a streak of acid and glee, closing the distance in a blink. Shera barely had time to brace. Her arms crossed in defense as a gust of wind cushioned the blow, but the sheer force of his impact sent her skidding backward across the fractured pavement, feet grinding against broken stone. Gritting her teeth, she summoned a sharp gale into her palm, shaping it into a bladed arc of wind and swung, only for agony to explode through her body. Zan's hand lashed out mid-swing, coating her forearm in sizzling acid. In an instant, the limb melted away in a violent hiss of flesh, steam, and pain. Her arm fell in pieces, disintegrating before it could even hit the ground.

Shera: AHHHH! MY ARM!!!

Blood poured in thick, hot streams from the stump of Shera’s missing arm, soaking into the cracked ground beneath her. Gasping, she dropped to one knee and reached over with her remaining hand, desperation flaring in her eyes as she channeled what little Intergy she could to heal the gaping wound. Before the energy could seal flesh, Zan stepped forward, calm, grinning, cruel. With a flick of his fingers, a burst of acid shot downward, splashing across her remaining arm as the flesh sizzled, blackened, and peeled away in seconds. The healing died in her fingers as her other arm fell off her body.

Shera: AHHHHRRGHHH!!!

Zan: Well, this got awkward. Your confidence died in less than a minute.

Shera screamed and sobbed uncontrollably as pain tore through her body. Her voice cracked into raw, desperate screams, echoing off the ruined buildings around her. Tears streamed down her face, mixing with ash and blood as she cried out, not just from agony, but from helplessness.

Zan: Shhh… It’s ok…

Zan knelt beside her broken frame, his expression softening into something twisted, almost tender. As Shera continued sobbing, he gently pressed a finger against her trembling lips to quiet her down.

Zan: I was going to have a bit more fun, but it’s not fun when you’re not an interesting person.

Shera spat the blood in her mouth at Zan’s feet.

Shera: Fuck you, you failure. You were trash to Krutone, and you’ll be trash to Aku. You just don’t know it. You can’t save yourself! Nothing can save you! I know your story. You weren’t made a monster. You were always one! You were born a mon—

Zan’s grin vanished. In a blink, he seized Shera by the jaw, his fingers digging into her cheeks with bone-cracking force. Acid immediately poured from his palm, seeping into her. Her scream was cut short as the flesh around her mouth bubbled and tore, her lips, teeth, and chin disintegrating in a flood of steam and gore. The lower half of her face collapsed into a grotesque slurry of melting muscle and dissolving bone, her eyes wide with silent, suffocating horror. Zan held her there for a second longer, watching her final expression freeze in place. He watched her pain, defiance, and fear fused into a mask of death before letting her crumple limply to the ground, faceless and still.

Behind him landed Esako. He looked around and saw the three dead bodies. Bayz. Analee. And now Shera.

Esako: Zan…

Zan turned around, looking straight at Esako.

Zan: Ahhh… Krutone’s best soldier, right? Esako? I get the luxury of dealing with you next?

Esako: I’ve read about you.

Zan grins.

Zan: How is like taking Zash’s place? All that glory and honor. You became what Zarnem could never.

Esako doesn’t respond.

Zan: And why are you here? Shouldn’t you be defending Kyto?

Esako: I’m here to finish you.

Zan: Every fucking person says that then gets bitched by me!

Heatwaves began to build.

Zan: But you? You just might put up a decent fight!

The air between them thickened with menace. Heatwaves shimmered off Esako’s body, his fists glowing faintly with concentrated fire Intergy. Across from him, Zan’s body oozed a translucent mist of acid, its hiss merging with the low crackle of burning pavement. The ground between them warped, one side blistering from the sheer heat radiating off Esako, the other corroding and bubbling under the acidic vapor bleeding from Zan. Then, a rumble echoed as both began to step forward, slow and deliberate, their power coiling in tandem, poisoning the sky with steam and fury.

Zarnem staggered to his feet, steam rising off his scorched armor as his chest heaved with each breath. Cracks lined his Intergy shell, faint light flickering through the damage. Across the fractured plaza, Sicrus landed in a controlled crouch. He rose with calm precision, eyes locked on Zarnem with quiet detachment, as if already measuring how much longer this would take.

Sicrus: I wish I didn’t have to clean up Penim’s dirty work. Always hated the guy.

Zarnem doesn’t respond.

Sicrus didn’t waste anymore time. His fingers snapped up and a volley of Intergy bullets fired forward like a blinding swarm, each glowing shot whistling through the air with piercing precision. Zarnem, eyes calm but fierce, slammed his palm to the ground. A thick wall of stone burst upward from the earth, catching the barrage in a thunderous clatter of impact. Cracks webbed across the barrier, dust billowing, but Zarnem was already moving. With a sharp gesture, the stone wall surged forward like a massive slab of offense, barreling toward Sicrus with the force of a charging boulder.

Sicrus raised a single hand. A bullet, thicker and pulsing with Intergy, launched from his fingertip. It struck the incoming wall dead center. The explosion was instantaneous. Shards of rock exploded outward, a shockwave blasting through the street. Smoke and rubble filled the air, but Zarnem was undeterred. He pressed his hands into the ground. The terrain around him began to ripple, the dust thickening and rising as the broken stone crumbled into finer grains. Within seconds, a fierce sandstorm erupted from the cracked street, swirling around him.

Through the growing storm, Sicrus didn’t let up. Intergy bullets fired in bursts, slicing through the sand with trails of glowing heat. But Zarnem met the attack with a rising tidal wave of sand, each bullet swallowed into the gritty current before reaching him. The winds screamed as sand collided with energy midair, tiny flashes erupting in the chaos. Then, through the veil, Sicrus vanished. A flicker of Intergy pulsed, and he rocketed forward, body low, moving like a missile.

He burst through the sand cloud and reached Zarnem in a flash, fists already flying. The two collided with explosive momentum. Sicrus’s strikes were surgical and unrelenting, each jab faster than the last, aiming for Zarnem’s throat, ribs, eyes. But Zarnem didn’t flinch. His skin hardened, transforming into stone just in time to absorb the blows. Sparks flew as Sicrus’s knuckles scraped across the rocky surface, each punch landing with force but not breaking through. Zarnem grunted, grounding himself, sliding back with each impact but refusing to fall.

Zarnem (thinking): He only fights with Intergy. No elements. 

Then came Zarnem’s opening. With a fierce upward swing, his fist struck Sicrus square in the sternum. A deep thud cracked through the space between them. Sicrus’s breath caught instantly. His feet left the ground, body knocked back. He slammed into a pile of debris with a heavy grunt, rolling to a stop. For a moment, he didn’t rise. His hand clutched his chest as he sat up slowly, breath ragged, teeth clenched. Zarnem had landed a hard hit.

Zarnem (thinking): Got you. 

Zarnem surged forward, wasting no time. From the ground beneath him, he summoned a thick javelin of stone, its tip honed to a lethal point. With a powerful heave, he hurled it at Sicrus, the weapon tearing through the air. But Sicrus, still clutching his ribs and gasping for air, twisted his body just enough to dodge. In the same motion, his arm snapped up and fired a glowing Intergy bullet directly at Zarnem. Zarnem raised his forearm, already thickened with stone, and the bullet struck with a violent clang, bursting in sparks against the hardened surface but failing to pierce.

Straining for breath, Sicrus launched himself into the air with a pulse of Intergy. Hovering above the battlefield, he extended both arms and unleashed a downpour of bullets that streaked downward like falling stars.

Zarnem (thinking): Damn. I need to shield myself!

The ground erupted in miniature explosions as each shot impacted with bone-jarring force. Below, Zarnem gritted his teeth and slammed both palms into the ground. In response, a dome of stone arched up around him like a fortress, shielding him as the bullets pounded relentlessly against its curved surface.

High above, Sicrus barely had a second to reposition when the sandstorm below began to shift. It coiled and condensed unnaturally, forming tendrils of compressed sand that whipped into the air. The force grabbed onto Sicrus’s limbs, dragging him downward with terrifying weight. He struggled, flaring Intergy from his feet in an attempt to hover, but the sandstorm was too dense, too deliberate, crafted by Zarnem’s will. In seconds, Sicrus was yanked from the sky and slammed into the ground with force.

Snarling through clenched teeth, Sicrus exploded outward with raw energy, scattering the sand with a shockwave. But as he steadied himself to rise, Zarnem was already there, stone javelin in hand, eyes locked in murderous focus. Zarnem thrust the weapon. Sicrus barely reacted in time. With a flick of his wrist, he fired a compact Intergy bullet, smaller than before, but denser, straight at Zarnem’s head. The impact detonated on contact, sending Zarnem flying backward, smoke and stone dust erupting in every direction.

Zarnem tumbled, body skidding across fractured ground, but he quickly rolled to his feet. His skin was already stone-hardened. The explosion had scorched his face, blackening parts of his cheek and jaw, but it hadn’t pierced deep. Blood trickled from his scalp, but his eyes remained sharp, unbroken. Across the battlefield, Sicrus used the opening to propel himself away, trails of Intergy spiraling from his feet as he carved distance between them.

Boulders erupted from the earth, each one the size of a small vehicle, hurtling toward Sicrus as he retreated through the smoky haze of the battlefield. Zarnem’s arm movements were broad and relentless, guiding the barrage. But Sicrus didn’t stop moving. Still mid-flight, he flicked his fingers with deadly precision, launching Intergy bullets that collided with each incoming boulder. Each bullet burst on impact, erupting the stones into sprays of rubble and dust, scattering their mass harmlessly to the sides.

Zarnem wasn’t done. As soon as Sicrus landed, more jagged spikes of stone launched from the ground. They were sleeker, faster, more targeted. This time, Sicrus took a defensive stance. He raised both arms, and a shimmering wall of Intergy that materialized just in time. The stone spikes slammed against the barrier with deafening cracks, embedding and fracturing on contact, but failing to pierce through.

Zarnem charged next, fists and forearms coated in thick layers of stone and Intergy glowing beneath. With a primal yell, he slammed his hardened fist into Sicrus’s Intergy barrier. The impact cracked the shimmering wall in spiderweb patterns, and then, like glass under pressure, it shattered. The force of the blow sent a shockwave through the air, knocking both of them backward, separating them violently in opposite directions. Debris exploded outward in a wide arc, blanketing the battlefield in shards of shattered pavement and Intergy residue.

Mid-flight, Sicrus didn’t waste time. Even as his body spiraled through the air, he extended his arms and fired another volley of Intergy bullets. Zarnem, regaining balance, responded with a sweeping wave of sand summoned from the ground. The grains surged upward like a tidal wall, catching the bullets and absorbing their explosive impact in a muffled series of hissing detonations.

Then everything stopped, just for a second. A shift occurred. Sicrus's arms lowered, and a pulse of energy began to emanate from his core.

Sicrus (thinking): Ok, Aku. Let’s see what this thing is. 

It wasn’t like before. This was heavier, older, stranger. From his body, tendrils of Intergy unfurled in twin shades: one of deep, endless black, the other of brilliant, radiant white. The battlefield stilled as both light and dark Intergy spiraled around him in perfect, unnatural harmony. Zarnem’s eyes widened in disbelief. He stepped back, his breath catching.

Zarnem (thinking): What?... Only Sen and Aku should be able to use dark and light…

But then came the sound. From within the swirling aura of Intergy, a screech erupted, not from Sicrus’s mouth, but from the very energy pouring out of him. It was an unearthly roar, guttural and furious, like a beast clawing its way through the dimensions of reality, breaking through flesh and memory. It echoed through the ruins with a resonance that made stone. Sicrus stood motionless, his body perfectly still, yet the roar continued, animalistic and haunted, a rage that didn’t belong to any man. It howled from the darkness and light.

Zarnem took a step back. For the first time, he hesitated. Not because of fear alone, but because he didn’t understand. This was a power that shouldn’t exist. A contradiction of nature and training. Sicrus had no Orb, no genetic story like Sen’s. And yet, here he was, unraveling.

Sicrus’s eyes flickered violently, then steadied. For a moment, his vision blurred, and his body threatened collapse. He staggered, as if something inside was tearing him in opposite directions. But then, with a sharp inhale, he collected himself. His eyes locked onto Zarnem, focused now, cold and certain. Without a word, Sicrus launched forward, his body a blur of muscle and momentum, charged by the primal rush of dark-light Intergy. He didn’t move like a soldier anymore. He moved like something built for war. Built to hunt. Built to kill.

Sicrus lunged with the swiftness of a predator, his fist arcing through the air with lethal intent. Around his knuckles, blackened claws of energy flickered to life as thin, spectral talons formed from dark Intergy. Zarnem tilted his head at the last possible second, dodging the full strike, but not all of it. The clawed edge grazed across his cheek, and for the first time, his stone-hardened skin cracked, then tore. A shallow gash opened, oozing blood across the fractured armor.

Zarnem (thinking): Shit! This isn’t just Intergy. It’s a monster!

Reeling from the unexpected breach, Zarnem roared and retaliated. Slamming his palms into the ground, he pulled two swords of jagged stone from the earth, each blade glowing faintly with embedded Intergy. He surged forward, bringing the weapons down in a vicious cross-slash. But before either could land, Sicrus was already moving. With a flick of his wrist, an Intergy bullet screamed through the space between them and detonated against Zarnem’s chest, the blast flaring with concussive force. Zarnem’s body tumbled backward, swords flying from his grip, the wind torn from his lungs.

Then came something worse. Sicrus didn’t rise by technique this time. He didn’t need propulsion. He simply jumped. But that jump wasn’t ordinary. As he rose, dark and light Intergy spiraled violently around his body, screaming like banshees in his wake. The sheer intensity of the energy distorted the air. He hovered midair for a heartbeat, arms wide, fingers splayed open.

Then he pointed them all at once, ten fingers trained downward. A sudden, coordinated storm of Intergy bullets erupted from each fingertip like a machine gun that tore through the sky. The bullets rained down on Zarnem’s position, pounding the battlefield like artillery fire. Every impact triggered a small explosion, the shockwaves peeling back the surface of the ground, shattering stone, splintering ruins. It was relentless. Thunder and flame swallowed everything in view.

Zarnem (thinking): Even more powerful this time!?

Zarnem scrambled beneath the onslaught, desperately shaping layer after layer of stone into a protective dome around himself. Each slab cracked under the barrage, groaning as though alive. The air filled with dust and smoke, and still the bullets fell, dozens, maybe hundreds, tearing through the landscape with divine ferocity. When it was finally over, a deathly silence hung in the air.

Where once a shield of earth had stood, now a half-shattered husk remained. Craters surrounded it like a burial site. The stone dome had mostly collapsed, its protective layers blown inward. Zarnem knelt inside, barely conscious, blood streaking down his face, arms trembling from holding up what little cover remained. His breathing was shallow, eyes flickering, but alive. Just barely.

And Sicrus hovered above, watching calmly. Sicrus descended, his feet landing with no sound. Raising one hand, he extended his index finger, where a glowing bullet of Intergy began to swirl. But this wasn’t like the usual rapid-fire blasts. This one pulsed slowly, ominously, like a breath held too long. The glow expanded, condensed, then grew again, charged with layered power that made the air around it ripple.

Zarnem immediately responded. He slammed both hands into the scorched ground, summoning a thick barrier, a hybrid wall of compressed stone fused with sand, reinforced with his own Intergy. It rose fast and wide, a jagged bastion of earth and grit, bracing for a destructive assault. Zarnem narrowed his eyes, analyzing the build-up in Sicrus’s hand. This was going to be devastating. He braced behind the wall.

Sicrus fired. The bullet zipped through the air, not with the expected roar, but with a soft hiss. It struck the stone wall with a faint thump, embedding itself into the surface. No explosion. No shrapnel. Just… nothing.

Zarnem’s brow furrowed. Confusion flickered.

Zarnem (thinking): What!?

That’s when it happened. From the left, around the edge of the wall, Sicrus was already there. Zarnem spun in shock, his instincts screaming, hardening himself. Sicrus had moved the moment he fired, using the soft bullet as a decoy, a distraction to mask his true movement. And now, face-to-face, the real bullet was already formed. It was tighter and more concentrated into a pinpoint of volatile Intergy so dense it hummed with frequency.

Zarnem instinctively reinforced himself, his body hardening like bedrock, layers of stone skin forming across his skull and chest, every vein surging with protective Intergy. But the bullet was beyond anything he was expecting.

Sicrus, wordless and cold, fired at point-blank range. The bullet screamed through Zarnem’s forehead with an explosive crack, drilling through stone, skin, and soul. For an instant, everything went still. The world silenced in reverence of the sheer precision. Then, in slow motion, Zarnem’s eyes rolled back. His body jerked once, then collapsed to his knees, still upright by sheer tension until gravity won. Zarnem fell forward, his body slamming into the dirt with finality.

Sicrus stood over him, hand still smoking.

Sicrus: That’s it, huh?

Zarnem’s head continued spilling blood.

Sicrus: Krutone’s bitch is done running.

Sicrus knelt by Zarnem’s corpse.

Sicrus: Look at you now. A failure.

Sicrus knocked on Zarnem’s skull.

Sicrus: Rest easy there, little hero. People will remember your father, but no one will remember you.

Sicrus rose slowly, his limbs heavy with exhaustion, each movement deliberate and strained. His chest rose and fell in ragged breaths as he staggered towards the nearest crumbling wall. With a quiet grunt, he leaned his shoulder against the scorched stone, letting the weight of the moment press down on him. His hand dragged down his face, smearing soot and blood across his skin. He closed his eyes for a moment, not to rest, but to remind himself he was still alive.