Adam stood apart from the others, silent.
No comforting words.
No prayers.
No grief.
He wiped the blood from his blade with a dead man's cloak and looked at the survivors with a cold, hollow stare.
There was no pity in his crimson eyes — only calculation.
When Eve approached him, her face streaked with tears and soot, Adam just stared at her like she was an insect crawling in the dirt.
> Eve:
(quietly, broken)
"Do you feel nothing, brother...? After everything...?"
Adam didn't even answer.
He simply turned his back and walked away, leaving a trail of bloody footprints behind him.
To Adam, they were already dead.
It was just a matter of time.
Above them, the Tower — that cursed machine — continued to grow.
The Sky Blade at its core pulsed with a rhythm like a heartbeat, sending out waves of distorted energy across the ruined sky.
The portal above the world widened, tearing the very fabric of space itself.
Dark shapes moved behind the veil — things far worse than what had already been unleashed.
Dr. Jin's voice came through the comms, static-laced and trembling:
> Dr. Jin (over comms):
"We lost all contact with the southern hemisphere... satellites are... are going dark one by one... whatever's coming, it's bigger than anything we've ever faced—"
The comms cut off.
---
[Final Scene: Silent Preparations]
The survivors — what few remained — dug trenches with bleeding hands, set up barricades made from dead beasts and broken tanks, and readied their weapons with mechanical, haunted motions.
There was no hope in their eyes.
Only the grim certainty of death.
No reinforcements were coming.
No rescue.
Only the end.
Commander Cooper stood atop a mound of corpses, surveying the field with a dead man's resolve.
His words, spoken low and grim, carried across the wind:
> Commander Cooper:
"We hold here... or we die here."
No cheers.
No bravado.
Only the clinking of swords, the cocking of rifles, and the silent prayers of broken soldiers preparing for the final nightmare.
And in the shattered heavens above —
something began to stir behind the portal.
Something far worse than Leviathan.
The battered survivors stood ready — if ready was even the word for it.
They gripped their weapons in bloodied, shaking hands.
Eyes red from smoke, from tears, from horror.
The sky — a wound upon the world — began to split further open.
The stars disappeared.
The moon crumbled into dust like a rotting fruit, falling apart into the void.
The Tower pulsed faster, the Sky Blade at its core humming with an alien frequency that made blood vessels burst in the weakest among them.
Some soldiers simply fell over dead, clutching their ears, their skulls splitting from the noise.
At first, it was shadows.
Long, slithering tendrils of living darkness that reached down from the portal like skeletal fingers.
Then came the creatures.
They weren't beasts.
They weren't demons.
They were things that should not exist.
Shapes that bent wrong — like the laws of physics were toys to them.
Mouths where there should be eyes.
Endless limbs, gaping maws, bodies that twisted like torn cloth, faces like melted statues.
And when they touched the ground —
Reality itself screamed.
The earth buckled and cracked under their weight.
The grass rotted to black ash.
The very air soured, leaving every survivor gasping and coughing blood.
Men who had survived the battle moments ago — seasoned veterans — froze at the sight.
Some dropped their guns and ran screaming into the wasteland, their minds shattering like glass.
The first monsters landed among them, and—
Carnage.
One knight was ripped in half, thrown into the air like a ragdoll, his lower body used as a club to bludgeon another into the ground.
A mage tried to cast a spell — only for his body to implode, his blood spraying outward like a fountain.
A squadron of riflemen opened fire — bullets simply melted before reaching the creatures, as if time itself betrayed them.
Screams filled the night.
Begging. Pleading. Prayers. None answered.
Xiao Ling, her eyes wide with horror, shouted:
> Xiao Ling:
"Fall back! FALL BACK!!"
But where could they go?
There was no escape.
No sky.
No stars.
No hope.
Ty fought like a demon, slashing through creatures with her vampire strength — but even she was slowing down, bleeding, limping, terrified.
Vincent tried rallying soldiers, but half of them were too broken to even understand.
Commander Cooper simply stood his ground, firing round after round into the abyss until his gun clicked empty, his face a stone mask of acceptance.
And Adam…
Adam didn't fight like the others.
At one point, a wounded soldier begged Adam for help —
Adam simply looked down at him with those dead eyes…
…and walked away.
From the portal —
a shape so massive that it blotted out the entire sky began to descend.
It wasn't a creature.
It wasn't a god.
It was something worse.
Something that should have stayed sealed forever.
A massive eye opened above the battlefield —
an eye the size of a city —
and it looked down upon them.
At that moment, everyone who looked up felt something crawl into their minds.
Memories twisted.
Screams filled their heads.
Sanity unraveled like wet paper.
Thousands dropped dead instantly, their hearts exploding from sheer terror.
Others clawed at their own faces, ripping their eyes out to escape the gaze.
The last surviving fragments of the armies stumbled together, barely more than a few hundred men and women, hiding in the wreckage of burnt-out tanks and broken walls.
Commander Cooper, bleeding from a dozen wounds, dragged Ty to cover.
Vincent, missing two fingers, gritted his teeth and reloaded his weapon with trembling hands.
Xiao Ling, her armor shattered, rallied what few knights she had left.
Eve wept silently, broken wings hanging limp.
Adam simply cleaned his blade in the dirt, ignoring them all.
The earth shook.
The sky bled.
The future was dead.
All that remained now was the fight.
And perhaps…
the end of the world itself.
The ruined battlefield was silent for a moment — save for the distant thunder of something colossal still stirring in the bleeding sky.
Adam, covered in blood — his own and others — walked up to Commander Cooper.
His voice was flat, hollow, almost mechanical.
> Adam:
"Do you have a plan?"
Commander Cooper didn't hesitate.
He looked Adam straight in the eyes, no hope in his stare — only cold acceptance.
> Commander Cooper:
"This plan can go a few ways... But in order to succeed... Me and our entire army have to die."
He said it like he was talking about the weather.
> Commander Cooper:
"While that is happening, you, Eve, Ty, Alexander, and Xiao Ling — you break into that tower... and shut it down.
No matter the cost."
Adam simply tapped Cooper on the shoulder.
A silent acknowledgement.
No words. No emotions.
He turned and walked away without another glance.
From the ruins, Lieutenant Lastimosa stepped forward.
He was battered, burnt, bleeding from a gash across his forehead — but he stood straight, as if gravity itself would break before he did.
He said nothing.
He just stared at Commander Cooper, expressionless.
Commander Cooper, almost in a whisper, spoke:
> Commander Cooper:
"Can you see them too, Lieutenant?
Our comrades...
They're all standing around us.
Watching.
They bled and died for each other — while I...
I fought for a selfish dream."
The wind howled, carrying with it the distant screams of the dying.
Commander Cooper turned, staring at the broken horizon — the twisted sky, the looming horror.
> Commander Cooper:
"Now, standing on this mountain of brave corpses...
I have quite the view."
He smiled, but it was a dead, broken thing.
The smile of a man who had accepted damnation.
The shattered remains of the army — those few thousand left — slowly gathered behind them, silent.
No one needed to say anything.
They all knew what had to happen.
The broken earth trembled beneath their feet.
The sky above bled rivers of red and black.
The distant rumble of Leviathan's presence cracked the heavens like glass.
Commander Cooper stood rigid, silent, as the winds of death howled around him.
Before him, Lieutenant Lastimosa, the man who had fought beside him through countless wars, lowered his head... and then, slowly, dropped to one knee in the dust and blood.
The soldiers around them — battered survivors, living ghosts — watched in silence, breathing ragged breaths in the cold, burning air.
Lastimosa's voice cut through the silence like a blade:
> Lastimosa:
"I make the choice for you."
He raised his head, locking eyes with Commander Cooper — not with resentment, nor sorrow — but with unshakable resolve.
> Lastimosa:
"Give up on your dream."
> Lastimosa:
"Charge to your death."
> Lastimosa:
"Lead these crying children straight into hell."
The words hit harder than any bullet.
Commander Cooper clenched his fists so tight that his knuckles bled.
The burden crushed him — but he stood tall.
Not because he was strong.
But because there was no other choice.
Slowly, Commander Cooper nodded.
One single tear ran down his dirt-streaked face.
Not for himself.
Not for fear.
But for all those who would die under his command.
He turned back to the ragged army — the few thousand shattered remnants of humanity and their allies.