Shirley's eyes widened, they weren't falling, not yet, but the speed was unreal. Wind tore at his face, snow whipping across his cheeks like shards of ice. The world below blurred white, the skies above a storm of gray and frost. The instant they crossed into the Land of Snow, the air changed, colder, and heavier, sharp enough it felt like it could bite through skin and bone.
Cael's wings sliced through the wind, each beat powerful enough to shake Shirley's grip. His knuckles whitened around Cael's boot as he dangled, body twisting and jerking violently in the turbulence.
"Damn it—" Shirley hissed through chattering teeth, his muscles locking up from the cold. He grit his teeth and began to climb. Inch by inch, he dragged himself upward, from Cael's leg, to his thigh, until his hands latched onto the edge of his back.
Cael's wings faltered for a second as the weight shifted. "Don't even," he warned, voice cutting through the wind like ice.
Shirley ignored him, tightening his grip on the base of the left wing. "You talk too much."
Cael's body lurched. His wings flared wide as he tried to shake Shirley off, but Shirley's fingers dug in deeper, gripping through frost and pain.
"Get off me!" Cael yelled, twisting midair. The motion sent them spinning through the blizzard. Shirley nearly slipped, his cleaver clattering against his side, but he managed to hang on— barely.
The two struggled violently in midair. Shirley yanked harder on Cael's left wing. The membrane tore slightly, and a guttural cry escaped Cael's throat.
For a heartbeat, their flight froze, they were suspended, as the balance between power and gravity snapped. Then everything gave way.
"YOU IDIOT!" Cael shouted, his voice half rage, half panic.
Wind howled louder than ever as both of them began to plummet, spiraling downward through the clouds. Shirley clung to the tattered wing, snow and ice whipping past them as the white blur below sharpened, the outline of stone stairs, massive and spiraling upward into the heart of a towering fortress.
The stairs to CORE's castle, they were falling straight toward it.
They plummeted faster and faster, the wind screaming in their ears as the sky twisted around them. Shirley yelled in fear, his voice drowned out by the roaring blizzard. Cael's teeth were clenched, his body angled headfirst like a spear cutting through the storm. The ground raced closer, and before either could recover control, they slammed into the icy stone below.
Cael hit first, his head striking the stairs of CORE's castle with a sickening crack. Shirley crashed down on his back right after, the breath torn from his lungs. Shards of ice and snow exploded around them, scattering across the steps like shattered glass.
Not far off, the sound echoed through the frozen air. The rebels stopped in their tracks, staring toward the castle where the impact had sounded. Micheal froze for a moment, his breath fogging in the cold, before shouting over the wind, "Do not worry! We will continue! Don't be fearful, I am leading you!"
The rebels hesitated, doubt flickering in their eyes, but they still pressed on behind him, their boots crunching through the snow as they advanced toward the towering fortress.
LAND OF FLAMES
Asura's eyes rolled back, the light leaving them as his body went limp. He collapsed face-first onto the burning ground, his tall frame twitching once before going completely still.
Tucker stood a few feet away, his chest rising and falling in uneven bursts. The heat warped the air around him, the fire-scorched soil trembling beneath his boots. He wobbled, nearly collapsing, until one of the onlookers rushed forward and caught him by the arm. Another villager stepped up to Asura's body and gave it a cautious tap. Nothing.
He turned to the others and simply shook his head.
For a heartbeat, the Land of Flames was silent. Then the crowd erupted—cheers, laughter, tears all at once. They screamed, they danced, they fell to their knees in joy. Asura had fallen, and right before their eyes. Word spread fast; messengers sprinted off toward the mines, the forges, the labor camps. The flames that once symbolized their suffering now seemed to burn with celebration.
Tucker was lifted into the air, their hands beneath him, tossing him gently like a trophy. He couldn't even process what was happening, his vision blurred, consciousness flickering like dying embers. They hugged him, cheered his name, and poured water into his hands. Someone placed food before him, and with a weak bite, color began to creep back into his face.
"Did… I win?" Tucker muttered, his voice hoarse as they eased him down beneath a shaded tarp.
"You won us our freedom!" one man said, tears glistening in his eyes.
And for the first time in years, the Land of Flames breathed.
Tucker stared out at the people, their laughter echoing across the scorched plains. He couldn't tell if it was the heat or his exhaustion that made his eyes blur, but he smiled anyway. "Guess… we all needed that," he said softly.
Then the memory of Shirley and the others hit him like a spark catching dry wood. His eyes widened. "Wait—Shirley… the others—" He tried to stand, nearly tripping over himself. "They're still fighting. I can't stay here."
The crowd quieted as he looked around at them, the flames reflecting in his tired eyes.
"I need to help my friends," he said, straightening his back even as his legs shook. "Help me get out of here."
The Land of Flames burned with celebration as Tucker stumbled forward, guided by the same people who once cowered under Asura's rule. The crowd followed him like a parade, handing him food, water, and clothes that weren't half-melted from heat.
"Eat, kid! You look like you been cooked twice and served once," said a woman with deep brown skin and the accent, she was the one who had helped him. She shoved a loaf of bread into his hands and adjusted the scarf around his neck. "I'm Zuli, by the way. You gon' need this if you're really headed where I think you're headed."
Tucker swallowed the last of the bread and nodded. "The Land of Snow," he said. "That's where my friends are. We're gonna take down CORE."
Zuli blinked, then smirked. "Oh, so you one of them world-savin' types, huh? You better pack extra socks, hero. Snow's colder than Asura's personality."
Tucker chuckled weakly, adjusting the fur-lined coat someone had thrown over his shoulders. "Yeah, I'll keep that in mind."
They walked together through the winding red canyons until the air began to cool, the flames dimming to embers. The border loomed ahead, a cracked, jagged wall of obsidian and heat shimmer that split the two lands apart.
Zuli crossed her arms. "Ain't nobody got through that thing in years. You sure 'bout this?"
Tucker grinned tiredly. "If I don't, my friends are toast."
Zuli rolled her eyes but smiled. "Then let's make some history."
With the help of the others, they piled debris and molten stones against the wall until Tucker climbed up. He pressed his Strength Presence into the surface, a pulse of heat meeting cold as the barrier shattered open with a thunderous crack.
The group stumbled back, cheering. Zuli cupped her hands and yelled, "Hey, hero boy! Don't die out there, ya hear? And tell that CORE guy he still owes me my vacation!"
Tucker laughed, waving over his shoulder as he stepped into the frost. "I'll pass it on!"
And with that, he vanished into the storm, leaving behind the warmth of the Land of Flames for the cold unknown ahead.
NARRATOR
The Land of Flames had found freedom, the Land of Snow awaited war, and the echoes of rebellion reached farther than ever. The fight for tomorrow had only just begun.