Azura, Jade, and Maron advanced toward the western entrance of the Nordia HQ, moving with calculated precision. Each remained in their human form, blending seamlessly into the bustling capital teeming with Beserkers mobilizing for war.
"How will we even know where the king is?" Jade whispered, her eyes scanning the surroundings.
"We should be able to figure it out once we're inside," Azura replied. "He's probably in some central command room or something."
Maron's voice was tense. "This is suicide. The moment we're noticed, we'll be heavily outnumbered."
Azura's gaze was steely. "Then let's not get noticed."
The western entrance stood before them—less frequented, with most Beserkers using the central gate.
"Perfect. It's quiet here. Let's move in," Azura directed.
They slipped inside the HQ.
The interior was vast, a labyrinth of corridors and rooms. Unfamiliar territory that could easily disorient the uninitiated.
Navigating cautiously, they aimed to avoid detection.
Upon reaching the central lobby, a large screen displayed directions to various sections.
"Command room. He's sure to be there," Jade pointed out.
"For sure. Let's head that way," Azura affirmed.
They followed the signs, moving swiftly through an empty corridor.
Suddenly, a door ahead slid open. Five Beserkers stepped into the hallway, engrossed in conversation. Moments later, they noticed the trio.
A tense standoff ensued.
One of the Beserkers, Ted, called out, "Captain Gerald, these aren't Beserkers."
Captain Gerald stepped forward, exuding confidence and authority. Tall and lean, with golden blonde hair styled in shaved sides and curtains, he bore a sword at his side.
"These are beasts. I can smell them," Gerald declared, his hand resting on his sword. "Good thing I left the front lines to report back to HQ."
Azura, Maron, and Jade felt the weight of his presence. Gerald was no ordinary Beserker.
"What's the order, Captain? Are we engaging?" asked Luke.
"We have to. We don't know why they're here, but we need to eliminate them now," Gerald responded coldly.
Azura whispered urgently, "We've been compromised. If we engage, we'll draw unnecessary attention and get outnumbered. Let's re—"
Before she could finish, Gerald vanished and reappeared before them, slashing his sword with blinding speed.
They barely managed to dodge.
"You're not escaping me," Gerald warned.
Azura's eyes widened. "I know that sword. I've heard rumors of its existence. It's called the Blade of the Fallen—one of the most legendary swords ever."
Nervousness etched their faces. Survival was now their only goal.
Azura's gaze didn't flinch. "Alright… seems like we're going to have to fight them. They're not going to let us leave."
She stepped forward with quiet determination.
"You two handle the rest. I'll deal with him."
Maron's brows furrowed. "You sure?"
Azura nodded once.
Jade cracked her neck. "Don't hold back."
Across from them, Gerald stood tall and poised, a glimmer of amusement in his eye. He unsheathed his sword slowly, the polished steel humming faintly as it caught the light.
"You think you can take me on alone?" he said, his voice laced with superiority.
"I like your confidence… It'll make your fall more entertaining."
Then, heat.
Azura closed her eyes. The air around her shifted—an unnatural stillness, like the world holding its breath. And then, it ignited.
Flames surged from her back, not wild but controlled, as two magnificent wings of fire burst into existence behind her—arching high and spreading wide. Her eyes snapped open, now glowing a piercing, ember-red, like molten lava staring through the soul. Her hands began to shimmer, morphing into talon-like claws, black at the tips, pulsing with heat. Her hair whipped back in the heatwave, flecked with streaks of flame. Yet she remained half-human—her body radiating power, but still grounded in form. The corridor was bathed in a glowing inferno, casting dancing shadows against the steel walls.
Even the Beserkers paused in awe.
Maron and Jade instinctively stepped back, feeling the weight of Azura's presence surge.
"Wow amazing," Maron muttered.
"Yeah it is ," Jade nodded, eyes wide. "
Gerald's grin twitched. He adjusted his stance, holding his sword with both hands now.
"Fascinating…" he said softly. "A phoenix hybrid. A mythical bloodline… and the rarest at that."
His eyes narrowed, tone sharpening to steel.
"It's a shame I have to put you down."
Azura's wings flared behind her, the heat surging.
"You can try."
And with that, the silence shattered.
Azura surged forward like a comet, her fiery wings flaring wide and casting dancing light across the corridor walls. The air trembled with heat. Gerald met her charge without hesitation, unsheathing the Blade of the Fallen in a single fluid motion. Their first clash was like metal meeting wildfire — her glowing talons slamming against the curved edge of his ancient sword, sparks flying in a burst of fire and light.
Azura's eyes burned bright crimson, every strike radiating heat as she twisted through the air with impossible agility. Her wings flicked embers into the air with every movement. Gerald's precision was terrifying — he didn't waste a step. His blade moved like a sliver of moonlight, deflecting swipes and counters, slicing cleanly through fire trails but never quite striking Azura.
"Your flame dances well," Gerald said, his calm tone almost mocking. "But it flickers."
Azura growled and flared her wings midair, spinning with a rising vortex of fire that forced Gerald back a step. He raised his blade to shield himself, boots scraping against the ground, cloak smoldering at the edges.
Meanwhile, Jade and Maron were locked in a furious melee with the four elite Beserkers.
Luke, the closest of them, swung a brutal spiked club at Jade, who flipped backward, springing off the wall with preternatural monkey agility. Her katana, razor-thin and forged from obsidian steel, flashed out in sharp arcs, clanging against Luke's weapon in a blur.
"Keep up, slowpoke," Jade hissed, twirling through the air and narrowly dodging a brutal swipe from Rourke, a bull-beast with twin axes.
Maron was a blur on the other side of the corridor. In his cheetah form, he moved like lightning — ducking, weaving, slicing. He wielded twin crescent blades, their edges catching the flicker of hallway lights. He dashed in to strike at Elsa, a fierce Beserker with plated gauntlets, only to be forced back as she launched a flurry of counterpunches that sent shockwaves through the floor.
"Try me again, kitty," Elsa spat, blood on her lip.
Maron skidded back, eyes narrowed. "I'll do more than try."
He surged forward again, his movements barely visible, blades clashing against metal fists and parries as sparks flew. Jade flipped past him, briefly crossing paths as they each deflected another wave of strikes — their rhythm instinctive, in sync despite the chaos.
Across the battlefield, the fight was pure fury. No side was winning. Only the lights flickering above, the flames licking the air, and the sound of steel on steel and breathless growls filled the corridor as both sides fought with everything they had — power for power, speed for speed.
And no one was backing down.
Gerald's smirk faded as Azura landed in front of him, talons raised, wings flared, her breath slow and steady but burning hot.
He took a step back, exhaling.
"You're far more than just a spark," he muttered, raising his sword and lowering his stance. "Fine then. No more games."
With a sudden leap, he launched himself backward down the corridor, skidding to a stop at the far end. He thrust his sword out in front of him, gripping it with both hands, blade vertical, eyes shut.
He began to chant, voice low and resonant, the words ancient and primal:
"From beyond the veil where the ashes sleep,
I call upon the strength you keep.
O Fallen One, hear this plea,
Let thy power awaken in me."
The corridor dimmed around them.
The Blade of the Fallen began to glow — a deep white at first, then brighter and brighter until the light poured from the etched runes along its edge. Cracks of radiant energy split through the air, and with a sudden pulse of force, the blade unleashed a wave of divine pressure.
Azura narrowed her eyes, stepping back instinctively. Even her fire seemed to waver.
A sphere of brilliant light hovered above the sword, pulsing like a heartbeat. It twisted, turned, and began to take form — limbs, torso, a faceless head made of pure light. A being. A memory. A manifestation.
Jade and Maron paused mid-clash, staring in confusion and awe.
"What the hell is that?" Maron muttered.
The light-being turned to Gerald, still pulsing with that divine glow.
Gerald opened his arms wide, eyes still closed. "Lend me your fury… Fallen God."
Without hesitation, the figure stepped into him — no footsteps, just an ethereal glide. It passed through him like a spirit and vanished.
But Gerald was no longer the same.
His eyes snapped open — shining with pure white brilliance. His aura burst outward, crashing through the corridor like a sonic wave. The walls cracked. The floor trembled. The air rippled with raw pressure. His sword hovered briefly in the air, then snapped back into his hand like it was bound by fate.
Even Azura felt her stomach twist.
His voice was different now. Echoing. Layered.
"Now the real battle begins."