Havel breathed heavily. Blood streamed from his body to the ground, adding to the crimson puddle at his feet. Ada was still behind him, unharmed—thankfully. In front of them, by contrast, stood the creature his companion was terrified of.
A second labored breath escaped his lips, releasing a puff of vapor. His body was warm and heavy, a sign he was exhausting every available source of energy.
He forced movement into his shoulder joint and glanced at his right arm, which dangled as if it were broken. A scattering of cerulean spots speckled his skin all the way to his bicep, causing a more-than-annoying tingling sensation. The Blendbreed grimaced and remembered one of the first times Elaine used her powers to heal him.
The two were at the Grand Manor, where every Equinox Flower had a room to use as they pleased. They had just returned from a mission, the first in which Havel had used the crimson meteor against a monster. Due to his inability to control the new technique, a series of blue marks had appeared on his arm, and Elaine had taken the time to treat him.
The girl pressed on his forearm to assess the diagnosis.
"Yes, it's a magirragia."
Havel blinked and repeated, "A magirragia?"
"Yes, a lesion of the silver vessels that causes mana to leak from your body," explained the daughter of Mardi. "It's often mistaken for a leaking phenomenon from your Divine Core, but it's fundamentally different. Either way, you mustn't use mana at all until the lesion heals, or you'll only hurt yourself more."
"Alright, Doctor Rolland. Thanks."
"I'm serious," she said, miming the motion of slapping him. "You're only risking your health like this. Why do you fight this way? Aren't you afraid of dying?"
"Dying? I'm the strongest! To die, I'd have to be defeated—and I'll never be defeated!" he burst out laughing as he finished the sentence.
"Sure… I was just wondering if there's a reason why you do it…"
"Isn't it obvious? I want to destroy all the monsters so that every Blendbreed can live a happy and free life."
"So you want to protect others?" the blonde placed her hands over those of the son of Sidal. "That's a noble goal. I'm glad I can help you with it—as a true member of the Equinox Flowers!"
The image of the smiling Blendbreed was the last thing he saw before the memory faded, replaced by Nadim's golden eyes.
Yeah, a noble goal…
Much had changed since then—perhaps too much.
The realization that pained him most was that, had they asked him in the beginning, he would have said he fought so desperately to protect the daughter of Rutia—a trusted companion and the person he cared about most in the world—but, on a deeper level, had the question been asked more profoundly, he would have hesitated to answer.
The truth was that he did it for himself, because he hadn't been the same since the moment his body hit the ground during the fight with Shirei. He had always considered himself unbeatable—the strongest Blendbreed in Lilies Park, the leader of the Equinox Flowers, the most capable representative, the perfect ideal a son of Sidal could aspire to.
But ever since he was defeated, something inside him had changed.
Fighting monsters had begun to feel like a source of stress. It scared him—he feared being defeated again, of hitting the ground hard, just as he had moments ago. In the past, he'd always heard that dying in battle was the greatest end a son of Sidal could hope for, a moment the god of war would admire and glorify. Yet, as he grew older, he began to question that so-called absolute belief shared by his brothers.
What's the point of dying in battle? Why be the strongest if I can't make it home to my friends? Should I die just to honor my identity?
It was all in his head—he knew that—but he couldn't stop himself from feeling those things.
He was afraid to fight, and even more afraid to lose.
That's why he was willing to do anything—it was what he needed. He wanted to prove to his father that he hadn't made a mistake the day he saved him from his life as a mere mortal. He was grateful for what he had, and he couldn't afford to lose it. So he had to survive—and win—every battle.
Two reasons justified his need to be the strongest: to protect and to survive.
He would sacrifice the second of those principles only to safeguard the first—only then would he allow his father to witness the longed-for warrior's death he had always dreamed of. He would make him proud of his blood, of Havel Granbish. At the same time, he wanted to prove to himself that he could do it.
Heroes face the most dangerous enemies with a smile on their faces and always win.
It was true.
He had to make it true for himself. Ada didn't need to worry about him, because the leader of the Equinox Flowers would not be defeated. He needed to win—for himself and for his companions.
"Havel, I'm ready."
The boy hesitated, hearing the female voice coming from behind him.
Ada reached the son of Sidal and stood by his side. The girl, who until a moment ago had been crouched behind him, trembling in fear, had now stood up. Despite the tears streaming down her cheeks and the fear still evident in her eyes, something had changed. She had found the strength to rise—against every instinct, against every fear that had paralyzed her.
The blond felt his heart tighten in his chest. In the past, she had told him she was fragile, but he had always considered her the strongest companion he had. For a moment, a flash of pride crossed his gaze. Seeing her fight, despite everything, gave him a spark of hope.
That happiness was soon replaced by a deeper pain—one that had nothing to do with his wounds.
He was supposed to be the hero. He was the one who should have protected her, who should have defeated the lion and brought her home safe and sound. Once again, he had failed. He had been forced to unload that weight onto others. His body was too weak, his strength not enough.
Again…
The daughter of Rutia stepped forward, her eyes locked on Nadim. She clenched her fists tightly, filled with determination. She didn't need words to express what she felt: she wanted to fight. Despite the terror, despite knowing the lion was immensely stronger than they were, she was ready to stand her ground.
"Ada…" whispered the Blendbreed, but his voice faded before he could finish the sentence. She looked at him, and for a moment, time seemed to stop.
She reached out, her trembling fingers brushing against his forearm. Havel felt a sudden warmth flow through him, despite the irritating tingling that filled his injured arm. Ada's fingers intertwined with his, a simple gesture heavy with meaning.
"Thank you," the young woman said, her voice sincere.
The son of Sidal couldn't reply immediately. Part of him was happy to see her like this, but the other part was shattered. His desire to be the hero was in pieces.
She was the one giving him courage—not the other way around. She always had.
Nadim's roar pulled them back to reality.
The dark lion stared at them, his golden eyes narrowed into slits, as if the contact between them annoyed him. Havel sensed the shift in the lion's demeanor: it was no longer just amusement or contempt—there was something personal in his rage.
"Pathetic," hissed Nadim. "You cling to each other as if that will save you. But it changes nothing. You'll both be devoured."
Havel clenched his jaw and turned his gaze to the daughter of Rutia. Their eyes met, and a firm smile formed on both of their faces. They didn't need words. They knew what they had to do. The two Blendbreeds let go of each other's hands.
It's time to attack, they thought in unison.
Nadim watched them, amused. "Are you truly ready to die together?"
The lion lunged forward with astonishing speed. Havel tightened his fist and raised his uninjured arm, channeling the remaining mana in his core for one desperate strike—a second crimson meteor. A red flash lit up around his fist, ready to explode against the beast.
Ada raised her arm, and darkness began to form around her—a manifestation of the power she had struggled so hard to control in the past. Her hands trembled as she shaped the mana needed to condense the darkness, but she didn't stop.
In that moment, as the lion charged forward, Havel couldn't help but think of Shirei. He wondered what had become of him—the one who had defeated him in the past, the mortal who had shown him he wasn't the strongest.
Father, please let him be safe…
Every time he entered battle, the memory of that fight haunted him. He had become weak—a warrior who fought without the true spirit of a hero—but he knew how to reclaim everything he had lost.
They would defeat the lion, destroy the rifts, and when it was all over, he would challenge the son of Cragar to a rematch.
So I can't die here. Neither of us can. Stay alive, Purple.
── ⋆⋅❂⋅⋆ ──
Shirei came to his senses standing upright, his head still throbbing. He had defeated the remaining monsters, but the memory of the battle was fragmented, as if he had passed through a nightmare and only emerged at the end. The dark blood of his enemies stained his garments, and the ground around him was littered with twisted bodies—once Phasmafili.
He tried to recall those missing moments, but every attempt was futile, as if a veil had shrouded his mind.
He was exhausted, yet he was the last one left standing.
Another victory. Another massacre carried out.
He pushed those disturbing thoughts aside, as he had done often of late, and prepared to leave the scene in search of his companions. He had promised to reunite with them and would honor those words. He hoped they had listened and fled the rift.
However, as soon as he took the first step, an oppressive presence stopped him in his tracks.
The air grew dense—almost heavy.
Suddenly, a formless creature emerged from nothingness. It was a being made of pure darkness, an undefined mass that seemed to suck in all light and energy around it—like a black hole incarnate in the Otherworld.
"You've made quite a mess," the creature commented, its voice resonating directly in his mind.
The son of Cragar tensed as his heartbeat accelerated—a reflex he attributed to his Blendbreed nature.
Is it him? he wondered, recalling the words of the Placido about the dark wanderer.
The sensation this entity gave off was different. It wasn't the same presence he had expected after seeing the director. Ada had called that one a lion, so this couldn't be the same creature. There was no familiarity in this cloud—only a threatening void that pulled at him.
"Who are you?" he asked at last, forcing himself to stay calm. "A god?"
"Some would say so," the being replied, with a whisper that struck Shirei from every direction, "but as you can see, I wear no mask."
There was a pause, followed by a lighter tone. "Calm rules in your gaze, but I see the unrest just beneath your skin. I'm not here as your opponent—at least, not today. I was simply curious to observe you."
The Blendbreed sighed, irritation mounting within him. That entity, like so many others, seemed to have chosen him as an object of interest. Everyone watched him, everyone wanted to use him for their own ends. He was never free, always under the watchful eye of some higher force that manipulated him like a puppet.
"What do you want from me?" he asked, keeping the apathy in his voice.
The creature ignored his question, as if it were irrelevant. "Rather… why are you so obsessed with becoming stronger? You should enjoy life like all the other Blendbreeds do."
"I need to become more powerful. I have to."
"You have to…" the creature repeated slowly, letting the words echo through the room as if to give them more weight. "Those are just words from other people. I don't care about them. I'm curious about your own thoughts. What do you truly want?"
Shirei remained silent. He couldn't find an immediate answer.
What did he truly want? He had lived following a path laid out by others, for others. He had never done anything for himself, and that realization, though not fully formed, began to grow within him.
"See?" the creature continued, with a note of satisfaction. "You're just following someone else's will, like an obedient little soldier. They tell you what to do, and you do it. An enemy shows up, and you strike it down. But where is your own will in all this? Your brief life shouldn't be confined to a script written by others."
Shirei endured the words like a cold shower. He knew what he wanted to achieve—the goal that justified everything he was doing—but his interlocutor had struck a nerve. Recovering his memories didn't justify everything he had agreed to. First Cragar had sent him to Lilies Park, then Lyceum had forbidden him from summoning the Tenebrae within the park's perimeter, Aena had placed him among the Flowers of the Equinox to complete the mission. Rakion intended to use him to fight the Celestials.
He had been blind for so long, following orders, fighting battles that were never his own.
I'm just a tool, a pawn.
He froze. Something was wrong—he didn't truly believe that. A strange sensation overcame him, taking control of his mind and thoughts. He wasn't himself.
"You're trying to use me too, aren't you?" he asked sharply, tired of being manipulated.
There was hostility in his voice, a quiet rage that didn't belong to him. He wondered if it was the work of the entity he was speaking to.
"No." The creature let out a soft laugh. "Not at all. I, boy, want only to annihilate you—until you are nothing but dust. I have no other interest."
The answer chilled him. He hadn't expected such brutality.
"Why are you telling me this?"
The being replied without hesitation: "I want you to understand how deluded you are, how blindly you follow Fate's design. You're cursed, like all Blendbreeds, by the mask you wear without knowing it." It paused. "Few can escape its control. Why am I warning you? Call it mercy, or compassion, if you wish. You're promising, and I'd rather not see you wasted."
Shirei stared at him, unable to fully grasp his intentions. "Who are you really?"
The being laughed again. "I'll return the question to you, son of Cragar. I'll wait for the day you have an answer for me."
The dark mist surrounding the creature began to dissipate, vanishing into the air. Before disappearing completely, the entity placed a spectral hand on the amphora of ichor—something Shirei hadn't even touched until that moment. With a smooth motion, it erased it into a crimson cloud, as if it had never existed.
"There. Your mission is complete. And while we're here… don't you think it's a shame to leave these souls wandering in a place that will soon cease to exist?"
With those words, the creature vanished, leaving Shirei alone, surrounded by a silent battlefield. The Forbidden Heir stood still for a moment, eyes fixed on where the being had dissolved, trying to comprehend what had just happened. He looked around, at the monsters' corpses, at the black blood staining his clothes.
He was confused, tormented by questions without answers. He pushed the thoughts from his mind and took a deep breath. There was no time to linger. He had to find Havel and Ada before the Temporal Rift collapsed completely.
He took a step toward the exit, then stopped.
The entity spoke of souls… did it mean—
Time was running out fast, and he couldn't hesitate any longer if he wanted to get out alive with his companions. His violet eyes sparkled.
Does it want me to turn them into Tenebrae?