The city lay in ruins, its skyline fractured into jagged silhouettes. Towers leaned like broken teeth, and glass crunched beneath the boots of soldiers who patrolled the rubble. Whole blocks smoldered even now, months after the war's end. The air smelled of smoke, rust, and something acrid—like the ghost of poison.
Gendai pulled her hood tighter, her green eyes scanning the collapsed avenues as she and Raijin made their way toward the rebuilt government hall. She walked in silence, her steps sharp and deliberate. Raijin, always calmer, let his gaze wander across the wounded city.
"Hard to believe this was the heart of the world's commerce," Raijin muttered. His voice carried a weight of pity. "Now it's just scars."
"Scars don't fade," Gendai said coldly. Her words bit like frost.
When they reached the heart of Capriha, the half-rebuilt hall loomed ahead. A symbol of defiance, yes—but also of desperation. Guards ushered them in quickly, for these were not ordinary visitors. They had been summoned.
Inside, the leader of Capriha sat at the head of a fractured council chamber. The man's face was lined, his eyes sleepless. Around him sat ministers, representatives from allied nations, and survivors who carried the heaviness of loss. Murmurs filled the chamber until the leader raised his hand.
"You two," he said, his voice steady but frayed at the edges. "Raijin. Gendai. You fought beside him—the one they call Kazimir."
A silence stretched like a blade's edge.
Raijin straightened. "We did. And he saved lives. More than anyone else could have."
But the leader slammed his fist down. "And he destroyed just as much!" His words echoed. "Do you not see what he left behind? Do you not see the ruins outside these walls? Capriha is a graveyard because of him! Because your savior wields destruction without restraint."
The room trembled with murmurs again, anger swelling like a tide. Raijin clenched his fists.
"That's not fair. You don't understand the weight he carries. Without him, the world would already be gone."
But before Raijin could say more, Gendai spoke. Her tone was calm—too calm.
"No, Raijin. They do understand."
The chamber stilled. Raijin turned toward her, his eyes narrowing. "...What?"
Gendai stepped forward, her emerald eyes glowing faintly in the chamber's dim light.
"You keep defending him. You always defend him. But look around you." She gestured to the broken chamber, the survivors, the ruined city outside. "All of this… was his choice. He always carries destruction in his wake, and he expects the rest of us to follow."
Raijin shook his head in disbelief. "Gendai… you don't mean that."
"I do." Her voice sharpened now, bitterness spilling out. "All my life I was a shadow, a burden with no place. I fought to belong, but Kazimir? He never gave me the chance to redeem myself. He left me to rot in doubt, to struggle alone, while he decided whose lives were worth saving."
Her words struck the chamber like thunder. Even the council leaned forward, hungry for her betrayal.
Raijin stepped closer, voice low, desperate. "Gendai… you're wrong. He trusted you—he just wanted you to find your own strength."
But Gendai's lips curled into a cold smile. "Trust? Or abandonment?" She turned back to the leader of Capriha. "If you want a witness to his crimes… I will be that voice. I will stand against him."
Raijin's heart dropped into his stomach. His breath caught. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"You… you'd betray him? After everything?"
The chamber erupted in shouts, the world leader slamming his hands on the table with grim satisfaction. "Then it's settled. Even his own allies know the truth."
Raijin's hands trembled at his sides. He wanted to shout, to deny it, to drag her away from this room before she said anything more. But the look in her eyes—burning, resolved, wounded—froze him.
For the first time, Raijin saw not the Gendai he fought beside, but someone turning into a storm against Kazimir himself.
And he was powerless to stop it.